


Jailbreak

by xKireyy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Blowjobs, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Frat Boy Louis, Frat Boy Niall, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Niall is Niall, Swearing, Violence, Weed, a few het scenes, actual working jobs, college humor - Freeform, fraternity, handjobs, liam is the logical one, lots of fluff, louis is in a fraternity, louis' imagination, marcel is an enigma, this has a happy ending i swear, zayn is also an art hoe, zayn lives in california
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 72,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKireyy/pseuds/xKireyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcel Cox. An intelligent, quiet, studious boy who has a secret. A big one. He's running away, but no one knows from what or why.</p><p>Louis Tomlinson. A cynical, sarcastic, insincere fraternity boy who parties every weekend and acts like he doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself. He's just trying to find himself and make it through college while keeping his sanity in tact. </p><p>Or, AU where Marcel ends up in Miami, wanting to escape his traumatizing past. He meets Louis, who under the horrible influences of his frat mates, makes a bet he can get Marcel into bed with him. Of course, things don't always go as planned, and Louis finds out Marcel's secrets are a bit bigger than a simple white lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I'm back with a new fic :) This has been a project full of tears and tons of research, but I've loved every minute of it. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a fictional work and in no way reflects my opinion of the boys in any form. Please do not send this work to anyone associated with One Direction. I am currently not taking translations.
> 
> PTW: Violence

**XxX**

_December 31st, New Years Night_

_Blood._

_There’s blood everywhere. Seeping into the carpet, dripping off his hands, stained on his clothing, and sprayed across the bottom of the desk lamp with the glass bulb shattered across the floor. His hands clench together in a tight fist. This isn't what he wanted. This wasn't supposed to happen. Tears stream down his face as he looks up, seeing the two motionless bodies. His whole life is ruined. It was a mistake. A simple mistake._

_He shakily lifts himself off the ground, acutely aware of the distant sirens heading towards the house. His eyes widen in fear as the blue and red lights flash through the windows and reflect off the crème walls. No, this can’t be happening, he_ can't _be caught! No one can find out what he’s done, he has to run and get out of town before anyone finds out what he did._

_Quickly stripping off his clothes, he throws on an outfit and yanks down a duffle bag from the top of his closet, shoving as many items as he can into it. He grabs a few things from his nightstand and throws the bag over his shoulder with his phone in his pocket, fastening the first pair of shoes he can find on his feet, sparing a look at the bodies in front of him. The longer he looks, more tears that flow down his cheeks, so he tears his eyes away from the two bodies and the broken picture frame lying on the floor._

_"I'm so sorry." He cries, bolting out of the room without a second glance all while the sirens continue blare outside his window._

**XxX**

_Same Night_

"One, two, three, drink!"

Bottoms of cups are raised in the air as a chugging contest commences. Twenty seconds later, a pint is slammed down on the counter, making the others groan in protest. Louis raises his hands in victory and is immediately awarded with a dozen shots. All his competitors groan in envy and Louis’ blond friend Niall slaps him on the back, cackling loudly. 

"That's a new record, Tommo! You beat 'em every time!" Louis grins and gulps down two shots, shooing away the grabby hands trying to steal the other small cups. He puts a hand to his chest and blinks as he wobbles on his feet, then pats Niall on the chest.

"You can have the rest, I'm going to find myself a _lady_." He slurs, scrunching his nose as he does so. Niall cheers in victory and downs a couple of shots before Louis pushes his way to the dance floor.

They're celebrating the rest of their exam-free winter break until the new semester starts next week. Their frat house decided to book a local club and throw a huge party, and so far it's the best party Louis has ever been too. Instead of getting the usual girls that are recycled through his fraternity like a pair of socks, there are a large variety of people here so he definitely has more than enough options to keep him entertained.

He finds a long, brunette haired girl and they grind on each other for a bit before ending up in the corner of the room, tongue down each other’s throats and hands all over their bodies. She lets out a moan as Louis runs his hand up her thighs and blows his warm breath onto her skin. She tugs on his shirt, which definitely means she wants more, and Louis bites on her collarbone as a warning before shoving her off his lap. Since she’s drunk, she just giggles and stands back up, and Louis sends her half-drunken state back to the dance floor with a smack to her ass. He isn't one for casual sex, no matter how many girls he's fooled around with.

Louis hears the ten-second countdown to New Years when he feels a girl tap his arm with a soft, “hey.” She then jumps into his arms and he immediately catches her, having done this so many times that it comes natural. She presses her lips to his forcefully and he pushes through the crowd to find a chair as everyone cheers and clinks their bottles of alcohol for the New Year.

Louis receives the best lap dance he’s ever gotten in his entire life, all while running his hands up and down her body, feeling her slick skin underneath her skimpy clothes and simply enjoying the rowdy and pungent atmosphere. Louis pretends to get off and she smirks at the accomplishment, warning sign number one that she’s actually really bad in bed. He sends her on her merry way with a hickey as proof he was there. Louis makes his way back to the bar.

Seeing how Niall has already finished all the shots and requested more, Louis shakes his head at his hopeless friend. If Niall gets any more drunk than he already is he’s going to start stripping on the billiards table and Louis does _not_ want a repeat of the repercussions.

"Okay, Ni, I think you're done." He yanks Niall away by the collar of his shirt and he yells some Irish gibberish to his friends before letting Louis drag him out of the front door. Louis shoves him outside and Niall falls to the grass, snapback fallen a few feet away, keeled over in laughter.

"You're pissed drunk," He laughs, prodding Niall with his foot. Niall simply can't stop laughing and Louis plops down next to him on his back, splaying his arms out. The stars shine brightly and the half moon is high in the sky. The Miami breeze rushes through Louis’ sweat-clad hair and he takes a deep breath to relax his spinning head. The grass beneath him and the sky above him are moving up and down and it’s making him dizzy.

"Saw that lap dance you'ere gettin' there," Niall slurs, reaching back pathetically for his hat. "Who was that?"

"No idea," Louis responds, still completely engrossed in the stars. Have they always been this bright or is he just drunk? He narrows his eyes at their radiant glow. Whatever the case, he starts laughing, and then flips off the sky. "I might’ve given her my number so she’ll call me later.”

"Heehee," Niall rolls on his stomach after setting his hat back on his head, kicking his legs up and down like a teenage girl on the phone. "I won the shot contest after you left. Those guys in there can hardly hold their liquor!"

Louis sits up, letting out a small groan as he does so. "Well you're Niall, no one can beat you, even me!"

"You got pretty close tonight!" Niall swats at the air. "But I still hold the record in that club."

Louis remembers that night all too well. It was hardly the beginning of the fall semester when he and Niall went drinking one weekend by themselves. Niall – being the idiot he is – challenged a senior to a shot competition. By the ninth one, Niall was practically bouncing of the walls like a fucking ray of sunshine and the other guy was completely stoned. He passed out on the floor while Niall proceeded to drink three more then threw up all over the bar and passed out. They were kicked out after that and Niall woke up the next day with the worst hangover and stomachache. And of course, the boys in the fraternity made Louis take care of Niall all by himself since it was _“their fault they went without permission”_.

Scoffing at the memory, Louis tries to stand on his wobbly feet. Niall pitifully holds out his hand and Louis half-attempts to help him up but Niall ends up pulling Louis back down to the ground. He lands with an _oof_ and lies on the ground dejectedly. He sniffles and lets out a dramatic sob.

"Why is my life so hard?"

"Pansy," Niall says and stands up. This time he prods Louis with his foot. "And you say I'm drunk. C'mon, we need to get back to the house."

Louis protests melodramatically, because frankly, he can't stand half of the boys in his fraternity. They're all fuckboys – not that he isn’t considered one himself – and have sex with the same girls and hardly care about college. They’re just part of the house for the title, popularity, and free booze every other weekend.

Louis, on the other hand, cares enough about his education and continuously gets shit for it when he decides to stay in and study rather than go to a club. So recently, he’s pretended not to care about his grades and hasn’t heard a mocking tone since, so he figures he’s doing something right.

Niall is his best friend in the house. He’s idiotic, clumsy, has no social filter, and can chug alcohol like a camel, but Louis loves him to death. They met back in high school and were in two completely different social groups and were actually rivals at first, until one day they were just suddenly friends. Louis doesn’t know how or why they’re friends, really, because Niall is loud and annoying and _very_ persistent when he wants to be, hence why Louis is at this school in the first place. After Louis graduated he was originally planning on going to school abroad in England to live with his uncle on his farm, but his plans changed when Niall told him about the fraternity. Louis had nothing better to do with his life at the time, so he thought, _why the fuck not._

Of course now he greatly regrets that decision. Louis would much rather get up at five AM to go bail hay for the horses and cows and roll in the mud with his uncle’s Border Collie named Luca than have to deal with stupid people he doesn’t even like on a daily basis. Living on a farm segregated from society sounds like a much easier and more ideal way of living life.

Louis has two other friends, one being Liam Payne who is just at college to earn some posh major in technical engineering. He’s insanely smart, so whenever Louis has trouble with his homework he’ll go to Liam for help. They met in one of their general education classes and have since found many common grounds, such as a love for boxing and lifting weights. Liam also makes a good punching bag when Louis’ had a particularly annoying day.

His other friend is Zayn, who was crazy and decided to get a scholarship all the way across the States to a tech college specifically for art. He’s a mad genius at color palettes and has an uncanny ability to switch his entire look from a cute Japanese anime character to a ruffian biker who only wears leather in an astounding seven minutes.

Louis misses Zayn since they’ve grown up together since third grade, but a day doesn’t go by without them calling the other to either ask a question or just talk about their day. They can talk for _hours,_ and Niall has previously shown his distaste for Louis’ decision to stay up until three AM with Zayn in a deep discussion about how quickly a mushroom would burn after being doused with sulfuric acid by throwing a pillow at his face. Louis simply flipped Niall off and continued his conversation, only to have a shoe thrown at his head next. The bruise Louis obtained taught him to never piss off Niall when he was trying to sleep.

For the most part, Louis is happy with his life. He’s finally independent from his family and everything bad associated with them, he’s out getting his degree in who-knows-what, and he’s part of a prestigious fraternity that’s infamous for it’s reputation and requirements to get in.

With each fraternity, there are specific rules or prerequisites a person has to follow or have in order to get accepted. Like for example, there’s a girl fraternity where all of them have to have blonde hair, and another one where people only dedicate their time to service projects. Louis thinks all the girl fraternities are unbelievably stupid, but he has no right to judge their requirements, because for his fraternity, they’re required to have had sex at least once.

The problem is, Louis has never had sex.

Of course none of the boys know, and if they were to find out, Louis would get into tons of trouble and be immediately kicked out of the fraternity. His reputation would be tarnished, he would no longer be able to join any other fraternities in the school, and he would be known as the “loser boy in college who’s never had sex”. That’s a title Louis doesn’t want to bear in his college-filled days, and if it ever came to that point, he’d have to flee the country and change his name to Janito San Pablo.

So, a year later after Louis, Niall, and Zayn graduated high school and Zayn had flown to California while Louis and Niall were both wasting their lives away playing video games on the couch eating potato chips and not quite sure what to do with their lives, Niall came running to Louis with an idea. He said he had looked into the fraternities around the Miami area and there was one in particular he was interested in. Niall hadn’t been a virgin since eighth grade, so of _course_ he was destined to get in. It was _Louis_ who was the problem, but Niall was determined to change that.

Once Niall found out Louis was still a virgin, he dragged Louis to a club that Friday night and shoved him into a room with a pretty red head. The girl was too drunk to even remember anything, and Louis was _not_ about to lose his virginity to someone he didn’t even know, so he took off her clothes, reveled in the sight for a maximum of three seconds, then fled back to his house under his Superman bed covers and cried the rest of the night while he let his little sisters Daisy and Phoebe watch cartoons on the bottom of his bed for comfort. He was nineteen back then, and being twenty-two and looking back on himself, he knows he did the right thing, but still regrets not doing it. The girl hadn’t been protesting, everything had been set up perfectly, so why didn’t he do it?

That next day when Niall came over to see if Louis did the deed, he found Louis and his two twin sisters dead asleep on his bed and woke up Louis to ask how it went. Downtrodden and feeling like a loser, Louis was about to tell the truth, but then he thought, _he never has to know._

Thus, that’s how Louis successfully infiltrated the fuckboy fraternity without actually meeting the requirements. He’s quite proud of himself for keeping this a secret for so long, but it always nags in the back of his mind and makes him feel guilty about lying. The matter is so insignificant but Louis still knows he’s cheating just to save his reputation. For being twenty-two and graduated out of high school he still cares _way_ too much about what people think of him. He’s always at a constant battle with himself, trying to justify why he should’ve had sex with that redhead back then just to get it over with then countering it with “she was drunk” or “it wouldn’t have been enjoyable” or “if I’d just told the truth I wouldn’t be here right now”.

But, being in the fraternity he’s in, it’s a given Louis would walk in on Niall or another boy in the house with his hand up a girls bra and tongue shoved down her throat. Their frat house is the true definition of a sex dungeon, and the mere thought of contracting a STD from a girl who’s had sex with three guys from his own fraternity makes Louis cringe. It doesn’t sound appealing _at all._

Having said that, just because Louis is a virgin doesn’t mean he hasn’t done other things, though. He’s had plenty of encounters with the female body, yet he still finds himself avoiding actual sex like the plague, he just doesn’t know _why_.

After Louis steals Niall’s snapback and sets it on his own head, the two hail a taxi back to the college. The walk from campus to their house is about a five minutes, so they mostly stumble and trip over cracks in the sidewalk but at least neither of them falls down.

Most of the boys have already gotten back from the club and are passed out on the living room floor and Niall and Louis simply step over them and head upstairs where they immediately fall into their beds. Niall is surprisingly quiet for someone whose just downed fifteen shots in one night, and Louis lifts his head to look at his friend. He’s dead asleep, his mouth gaping open, snoring. Louis chuckles, _of course._

Louis rolls to his back to look at the texturized ceiling. Moments like these when he’s bored or lonely he’ll try and find shapes throughout the plaster. Sometimes he finds animals, sometimes he finds random shapes, and sometimes his brain can’t make sense of anything so he gives up and goes to smoke some weed.

Along with hiding the fact that he’s never had sex, smoking weed is another thing he’s hiding as well. Since the tenant of the fraternity house doesn’t allow drinking or smoking inside, Louis has to sneak off and do it outside of campus. Niall probably has an inkling whenever Louis goes and takes a hit though because he’ll come back with bloodshot eyes and a dopey smile on his face most likely smelling like a trashcan. Niall hasn’t said anything about it, though, so Louis figures he’s safe.

As Louis lies there, he mulls back on the past few years of his life. He’s been in the fraternity for almost three years. It’s crazy to think how fast time has flown by, since Louis remembers the day Niall dragged him to the open house and made him fill out an application. By that time Niall had already been accepted into the fraternity, so it was likely he had put in a good word for Louis. Only two weeks later was Louis accepted into both the university and the fraternity and packed up his bedroom and all his childhood memories in one suitcase and moved without a single goodbye to any of his family members. He doesn’t regret not saying goodbye. He’s glad to have finally escaped out of that place he once called a home.

The fraternity hasn’t turn out to be any better than his home, much to Louis’ disappointment. He’s gone through many more hardships than any of the other boys and it pisses him off to think how naïve they are. They simply get drunk, fuck, and do it all over again the next weekend without thinking of the repercussions. Louis, on the other hand, is much more sensitive to every bed creak he hears at two in the morning, the cry of the wind at night against the window shutters, the blaring music echoing from the city in the distance, and the way some boys stare at girls in the club like they’re simply a piece of meat or a prize to be won.

Louis is ashamed he’s become one of them and turned into a clone, but he honestly has nothing better to do with his life, so he’s fallen into the routine of school, party, sleep, and repeat. His grades are dropping, he falls asleep during class, and he still hasn’t picked a major after all these years. He’s gone to college for two and a half years just repeating his generals and other miscellaneous classes because he’s utterly _lost_.

It’s a waste of money, he knows, but he’d rather be stuck in a fuckboy fraternity than go live back at home. It’s too late now to go live with his uncle since his only form of communication with him was through his family. Zayn tells Louis on a daily basis he just needs to either suck it up and leave the fraternity or call his mother, which Louis can’t muster enough courage to do either of those. He figures he’s a veteran in the fraternity now so he might as well stay because his reputation is solid, he has lots of friends, and he gets free alcohol and access to clubs. He’s enjoying himself anyway, only having to pay a semi-ridiculous fee to have a hoard of fifteen boys sworn to protect his life and he’s never been socially deprived.

There’s still something nagging in the back of Louis’ mind, though, he just doesn’t know what, and since Niall is asleep and Louis wouldn’t talk to him about it anyway, and he already knows what Zayn would say, the only other person he can talk to is Liam.

So he calls him.

 _“Hello?”_ Liam’s voice is groggy. Oops, Louis might’ve forgotten to look at the clock. _3:28 AM_ his digital clock on his nightstand reads, not too bad. As of three hours ago it _is_ a Wednesday, after all, so Liam can deal with sleep deprivation in the morning.

“Hiya Liam!” He says, still in a drunken stupor but aware enough of what he’s saying. “You busy right now?”

He’s quiet on the other end. _“I’m sleeping.”_

“But it’s New Years,” Louis pouts, “I wanna adventure!”

 _“Louis,”_ Liam whines, probably looking at his clock, _“it’s three o’clock.”_

“And you just made it bitching o’clock,” Louis says. “I’ll be over in five!” He sings, hanging up and leaving no room for argument. Louis writes a sloppy note to Niall saying he’s with Liam and strolls out their bedroom downstairs, stepping over the sleeping bodies on his way out of the house. There’s a curfew on their campus that’s midnight to five AM but no one ever follows that rule, especially the fraternities. Louis never gotten in trouble for being out past midnight so he doesn’t worry.

He stumbles up the three flights of stairs – damn Liam for being on the top floor – and right as he approaches the door, it swings open, revealing a yawning, half-dressed Liam. Louis scans his body up and down. Well, at least he has pants on.

“I think you forgot a shirt m’laddie boy.” Louis says. Liam looks down at his bare chest then shakes his head, retreating back into his dorm to get one from his closet. He reappears moments later sliding the shirt over his head as he closes the door behind him, yawning again.

“You suck.” Liam says, and they walk down the stairwell. Louis simply does a twirl down the last set of stairs and trips onto the grass. He simply laughs loudly and gets up and brushes himself off.

Usually when Louis says he “wants to adventure”, that means he’s drunk, Niall’s asleep, he forgot that Zayn exists, or all the above, and so Liam is his only shining hope of entertainment until he blacks out from the alcohol. And when he crashes, it’s always Liam’s duty to carry Louis back to his bed and tuck him in before he’s allowed to leave.

Louis made the specifics very clear the second time it happened when they were together, and since then he has yet to wake up disappointed. Really, all Louis doesn’t want to happen is to wake up on the nude beach with his dick chopped off and half his head shaven so pretty much as long Liam prevents that he’s satisfied. 

They walk to Liam’s car – which he parks in the middle of Africa, Louis decided long ago; Liam claims it’s more convenient for parking fees though Louis hardly agrees – and Louis stumbles into the front seat. The one time Louis tried to get into the drivers seat Liam yanked him out of the car and threw him onto the pavement, which promptly knocked him out for a good twelve hours. Louis woke up in bed the next morning with a killer headache but at least he wasn’t dead at the wheel. Since then Louis has never underestimated Liam’s strength.

“Where do you want to go tonight?” Liam asks, still yawning but drinking water to perk himself up. He’s very strict about drowsy or drunk driving ever since back in his high school party days he got in a drunk head-on. Luckily, no one had been injured but it scared Liam enough that he never touched alcohol again, even if he was at his house for the holidays. Louis respected that, but also teased him for being an old, decrepit prig void of any fun and excitement in life.

“I’m hungry,” Louis lolls his head back against the seat, caressing the fancy leather seats. Liam may be a prude virgin and part of the anti-drinking campaign but he definitely wasn’t short of assets. Both physical and materialized.

“Taco Bell?” Liam asks.

“Taco Bell.” Louis confirms.

The drive seems to go as slow as a snail, but a few times Louis yells at Liam to slow down. He clutches the armrest as Liam peels out from the red stop light and goes ninety – which really Liam is driving impeccably slow but Louis is just drunk and being overdramatic – and begins to giggle about in his tenth grade science class how he singed a girls bangs off, then suddenly screams when Liam stops the car. Liam looks jostled from Louis’ loud exclamation and Louis looks through the front windshield at the bright flashing purple sign that says _Taco Bell Drive-thru._ Louis claps his hands together.

“We’re here!”

“Yeah,” Liam is massaging his right ear, “we are. Now what do you want?”

Louis rolls the window down and unbuckles his seatbelt, lifting his body out the window. He slumps on the windowsill and taps his fingers on the roof of the car with a soft drumming rhythm. The stars are still shining as bright as before and Louis giggles. “Liiiiammmmm." 

“What?”

“I want hot sauce and a milkshake.”

He can hear Liam face-palming. “Louis, be serious.”

“Okay fine, I want the pizza with hot sauce. And a milkshake!”

“Sorry, they don’t have milkshakes here.” Liam says and leans out the window and orders, requesting extra hot sauce. Louis bounces up and down giddily and Liam tugs him back in the car before he loses his balance and falls headfirst onto the cement. That would certainly be unfortunate if Louis’ beautifully sculpted head shape were to be deformed in such a manner.

Liam drives forward and pays the woman, both of them sitting in silence as they wait for their food. Louis picks at a string coming from the leather seat and Liam slaps his hand away. Louis whimpers and claps his hands together in his lap.

The food is handed to them and Liam checks the bag before thanking her and hands it to Louis who is reaching for the paper bag pathetically. He pulls out his food and opens the lid, his mouth dropping incredulously.

“Liam this isn’t pizza!” He exclaims, stabbing the flat taco shell with his spork. “I thought you ordered pizza!”

Liam simply sighs and pulls out of the drive through. He parks in a vacant lot and rolls the windows down, taking out his own tacos from the bag. Louis rests his head on the window dramatically, letting his skin be pulled down with the glass as it rolls down. He makes a weird sound then giggles as himself. Once the window is gone, Louis stabs his pizza taco again, flicking all the tomatoes to the side. He rips open a packet of hot sauce and looks between the food and the packet for a long moment before he dumps it in his mouth. He immediately flinches and throws the half-empty hot sauce packet out the window.

“Leeyum iz hot!” He exclaims, fanning his mouth while his tongue limply hangs out of his mouth. Liam chuckles.

“It’s not even hot, you’re just really drunk.”

Louis pouts and turns back to his sad excuse for a pizza. He stabs at it dejectedly and takes small bites, completely ignoring the hot sauce packets in the paper bag. They hurt him so he’s going to hurt them back by giving them the silent treatment.

“You seem a bit more emotional tonight than usual,” Liam says, finishing off one of his soft tacos. He pulls another one from the bag and unwraps it. “What’s up? 

Louis drops the spork into the container, faking a sob. He squints his eyes and puts a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. “I’m just sad excuse of a person stuck in a fuckboy fraternity. What’s the point of being a fuckboy if you don’t even fuck boys?”

Liam pauses mid-bite and then breaks into uncontrollable laughter.

“It’s not funny.” If Louis were an emoticon, he’d be the living image of a frowny face.

Liam finally stops laughing and sets his taco down. "Louis, you're quite hilarious when you're drunk, did you know that?"

Louis stabs his food again. It's not a pizza and it's not a taco, so it's a faux-co. It’s fake and stabbed him in the back just like everyone else in his life has. It’s two-faced, pretending to be a pizza when in reality it’s just a flat taco. Louis is sick and tired of this unjust lifestyle that is being doomed upon his entire pathetic existence.

“I’m just sick of all of them.” He whines.

“Then why don’t you leave?” Liam takes a bite of his taco.

“You sound like Zayn,” Louis frowns, “which, by the way, is not okay with me because he’s across the country for a reason. You two are so alike it’s really freaky sometimes.” He takes a defiant bite of his imposter pizza. “And I can’t just _leave,_ Niall would castrate me. He’s the one that convinced me to join in the first place.”

“But did you _want_ to join?” Liam asks. “I mean, ever since I met you you’ve never really been too thrilled about being a part of that fraternity and we’ve known each other a good year. Honestly, if you hate it so much, why are you still there?”

“Because I have nowhere else _to_ go,” Louis admits in defeat, dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m just…lost. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I don’t know what I’m majoring in, I haven’t talked to my family since I moved out, and honestly I’m getting tired of all this partying. Sure, it’s fun because I get free alcohol and girls throw themselves at me willingly but it’s not like I find any of them attractive. I’m just, just _stuck_ , in this rut I don’t know how to get out of. I feel like I’m going through this endless cycle of a shitty lifestyle and I’ll end up being twenty-seven still in the fraternity as the oldest member and biggest failure.” Louis sighs deeply and rubs his temples, which are destined to be feeling the after effects of the alcohol tomorrow morning. “But I can’t just _leave._ The rules of the frat houses clearly state that if you join one you can never join another. So if I were to drop out now I’d be cast out, shunned, _doomed_ for eternity!”

“Louis,” Liam says, and by his tone of voice Louis knows he’s about to get scolded. “Look at me, I’m not part of a fraternity and I’m not an outcast, am I? I’m not a nobody either, I just don’t have that label on me like you do. You can’t keep defining yourself by the crowd you hang out with and find who you are as an individual. You’re lost because you keep trying to mold yourself to those guys in the fraternity when you’re clearly more mature and not like any of them at all, you’re just dumbing yourself down to fit in. If anything I’d guess you were that kid that hated high school because everyone else was so immature, am I right?”

Louis picks at the lint on his shirt and mutters under his breath. “Yeah.”

“You’re different and want to achieve higher levels, it’s just your peers are pressuring you into being someone you’re not. That’s why it’s called _peer pressure_.” Liam grins and Louis stares at him blankly before he smacks his arm.

“I hate you, just so you know.”

Liam chuckles. “I know, but I’m right, aren’t I?”

Louis shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I guess, but it’s not like I absolutely hate it there. If I was miserable I would’ve left a long time ago. It’s nice to know I have a loyal set of friends who would take a bullet for me without second thoughts.” Louis feels the alcohol beginning to drain from his system. His mind seems less fuzzy and he’s more conscious of his words. “But I don’t know, I guess I'm bored? I just need something new.”

“You always seem to say that as well.” Liam says. “So why are you bored? I thought being in a frat house was always a party.”

Louis rolls his eyes at Liam’s unintentional pun. “It is, and that’s the problem. I never get decent sleep. There’s always someone having sex, someone is always catching something on fire in the kitchen, there’s always an argument, it’s just nothing ever is really peaceful. Once I walked in on Niall doing sixty-nine and I slept out on the porch that night. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, I guess I just hate falling asleep to the sound of Niall moaning out some random girls name. It’s fucking gross.”

“But you’ve had sex before, haven’t you?” Liam questions. “I mean, you’ve had to, because that’s the whole point of your fraternity, you can’t get in unless you’ve had sex. So I don’t see why it’s so bothersome.”

If Louis were just a little bit more sober, his mouth wouldn’t be moving faster than his brain. He lets out a mock laugh.

“Hah! Yeah, well, you’ll never guess what. I actually _haven’t_ had sex, I just lied to Niall and said I have to get into the fraternity.”

Once the words leave he slaps his hand over his mouth. Liam drops the remains of his taco on his lap and his eyes bulge out of their sockets.

“Wait, you _what_?”

Louis feels like a deer in the headlights of a freight train. “Ehm…”

Liam falls against the back of his seat, completely in a state of bewilderment. “You _lied_ to get into the fraternity?”

Louis blinks innocently and bites his tongue. “Yes.”

Liam stares at him incredulously for a few moments and then bursts into laughter. That’s twice in one night, so that either means Louis is pretty damn funny or Liam truly feels pity for him.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh, I don’t care. I’m still a virgin and I’m twenty-two, sue me.” Louis holds his hands up in defense and rolls his eyes. Liam’s laughter is cut short.

“What? No, no, I’m not laughing because you’re still a virgin, Louis, I’m laughing because you lied to get into one of the most prestigious frat houses! No one has ever done that before and gotten away with it.”

“Is it really that funny?” Louis narrows his eyes. Liam snickers.

“You’re just a riot, that’s what you are. And I thought going to Taco Bell at four in the morning was an adventure.”

Louis cracks a smile. Well, his biggest, darkest secret is out in the open now, and he originally felt like if he told someone he’d feel like absolute shit. As it turns out, though, it’s the complete opposite. He feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders even in his half-drunken-Taco-Bell-induced state. In the midst of Liam’s laughter he had been planning to find the nearest dumpster chute that would transport him to Romania, but he no longer has to worry about that. Liam seems accepting of his little white lie and doesn’t seem to use it for the intention of blackmail of any sort. The thought swells in his chest.

“Do any of the other boys know?” Liam asks, and the blood from Louis’ face immediately drains.

“No,” He says quickly – and rather timidly he hates to admit. Damn Liam and his ability to make Louis confess secrets he’s been keeping for years, “and I don’t plan on telling them.”

“Not even Niall?”

“Fuck no.”

“Wow,” Liam blinks, “How do you pull that off?”

Louis shrugs. “You’re the only one that knows now.” 

Liam makes a humming sound, nodding his head up and down slowly. He seems to be digesting the information that he’s the only one who could potentially ruin Louis’ whole life, so the burden on his shoulders must be great. Louis hates the mere thought of it.

“Are you even going to tell Niall?”

Louis hesitates. He honestly doesn’t know. When it all comes down to it he really doesn’t know Niall very well; yeah they’re drinking buddies and have slept naked in the same bed more than once but that doesn’t mean they’ve ever bothered to learn what each other’s favorite color is. Louis doesn’t know how Niall will react or whether he’ll completely shirk Louis off and vote to kick him out of the house, accept him wholeheartedly, or try and drag him to the nearest club again to get him laid before any of the other boys find out. He just doesn’t know. 

“No,” Louis says slowly,” I don’t think so. Not right now, at least. I want to wait to see how things go. Niall is having a great school year and I don’t want to ruin his reputation for the sake of my unhappiness. Even though we’re friends he still ranks higher in the house than I do and his word means more than mine. It was my choice to lie so now I can’t really take that back.”

Liam stares at his lap deep in thought. After an elongated silence, he turns to Louis. “Why don’t you try, then?”

Louis really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m too tired for this.”

Liam stares at him for a moment before nodding. He knows that’s Louis’ key sentence to say he wants to leave, no matter what situation he’s in. Usually it’s either because Louis is exhausted, bored, annoyed, uncomfortable, or all the above, so Liam complies immediately and starts the car. He drives back to campus with the windows rolled down. The cool breeze blows through the car as the radio is on silent and Louis keeps his head propped against the window. He falls asleep halfway back to campus, leaving his food to get cold on the car floor.

Parking his car on the curb by the fraternity, Liam carries Louis into the house, stepping over the boys passed out on the floor. He heads upstairs and tucks Louis in bed, acutely aware of the loud snoring emitting from the bed on the other side of the room. Liam chuckles at Niall and sends one last look to Louis before walking out of the room and back down the stairs.

He knows all the boys in this house due to how many times Louis has called him to drive when everyone in the house is drunk and has actually been invited to join the fraternity many times. Liam simply just politely declines each time; he doesn’t want to get caught up in this type of crowd. He knows Louis is fighting the fact that he’s different – trying to deny that he’s smarter and more mature than the other boys in the house, including Niall. Liam understands because he’s the same way, he just wishes Louis would learn to accept it.

Liam returns to his own dorm smelling of Taco Bell and post-sex – and unfortunate combo indeed – and crawls in bed albeit his temptation to take a shower and falls back into an exhausted sleep.

**XxX** ****

_January 1st, New Years Morning_

Louis wakes up feeling more heavy-hearted than light-headed which is the exact opposite of what he expected. What the fuck did Liam do to him last night? He smells his shirt. Taco Bell? He honestly can't remember.

When he looks over he sees Niall is still knocked out and it makes him laugh. He stops when a brilliant idea strikes him. He snickers and takes a pillow from his bed, tip-toes over to Niall’s bed and hops on, raising the pillow above his head then bringing it down to whack Niall in the face.

"Niall, Niall, Niall, wakey wakey eggs and bakey!" He exclaims loudly, repeatedly hitting Niall on the face, jumping up and down for good measure. It’s payback for all those pillows Niall’s thrown at his head while he was on the phone with Zayn at three AM. "It's time to get up, my sparkling buttercup!"

Niall groans and grabs Louis' ankle, throwing him off balance and sending him tumbling to the floor. He yelps as he lands on the hardwood with a _thud_ and Niall cracks open an eye, a victory smirk on his face.

"Twat," Niall says, throwing Louis' pillow on top of him and pulls the covers up over his face. Louis groans at the pain in his back and the door bursts open, revealing Nick Grimshaw, the leader of the house. Or as Louis likes to call him, Dick Grimshit.

"What just happened?" He asks, clearly frenzied. Louis and Niall give Nick a weird look and Nick holds his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, I already had the police at the door earlier today, I don't want more ruckus since they're patrolling the grounds." He grimaces. "The party last night wasn't exactly allowed."

Niall lets out a snort. "And whose fault is that?"

Nick puffs his chest out defiantly. "Definitely not mine." He storms out of their room leaving their door wide open. Niall and Louis roll their eyes at each other.

"Everyone hates him so why is he still in charge?" Louis asks.

Niall shrugs. "Beats me." 

They go about their morning routine; blackmailing one of the boys to make them breakfast, tripping over each other in the halls, and hiding each other's plates and smashing their food underneath couch cushions. Louis enjoys the fraternity when it's simple like this – none of the boys are fighting, there’s no stress from finals, no alarms were broken this morning; they're all unified as one, just how it's meant to be. The only ruckus that's taking place is when the only remaining sausage on Niall's plate is stolen and he tackles the culprit to the ground, yanks it from his hand, and in one bite shoves it in his mouth albeit being covered in germs and carpet lint. The boy who stole it, Chad, throws Niall off his back, laughing maniacally.

"Has anyone seen Finnian?" Nick belts from the middle of the stairs. All the boys freeze and look to each other, shaking their heads. Nick grumbles under his breath and storms back upstairs, his footsteps echoing above their heads. Louis rolls his eyes and takes a spoonful of his cereal. Nick has been in a mood lately and honestly it's pissing Louis off. If Louis couldn't stand Nick before he definitely couldn't now.

It’s Wednesday and most of the boys are either bedridden from hangovers or have nothing better to do than laze around all day watching TV or playing on their phones. Some of the more responsible boys who didn’t drink as much are going to the gym, and they ask if Louis wants to come, but when his eyes sweep across their big muscles and fancy work out attire he quickly declines.

Even in their fraternity they have small cliques; the lifting junkies, the super nerds, the preppy fuckboys, the slight outcasts, and then Louis. He isn’t really sure where he fits in since he gets along with all of the boys most of the time. He just kind of does his own thing while hanging out with the outcasts and super nerds interchangeably.

Since Niall decides to join the _“I’m-too-hung-over-to-do-anything-productive”_ squad and crawls into bed and shuts all the windows and curtains to drown out any sort of sunlight, Louis decides to head over to Liam’s to ease his boredom and festering headache.

The walk to the main campus is enjoyable in the Miami weather. Even though it was New Years yesterday, there’s no snow and not even a slightly cold breeze. He saw in New York it had gotten up to seven inches of snow and he could only imagine what it would be like to go skiing. He’s never gone in his life and figures now is the time to do it before he becomes old and decrepit.

Louis takes two steps at a time up to Liam’s room and breathes heavily when he gets to the top. Either he suddenly became in miraculous shape last night or he was too drunk to even notice how winded he was. After he regulates his breathing to a non-embarrassing rate, he rasps his fist on Liam’s door. He hears footsteps approaching and puts on the cheesiest grin he can muster when Liam opens the door.

“Hiya,” He says, and Liam grins. “Came to say hi, and also thank you for last night though I don’t remember a single thing that happened.”

Liam shrugs and moves out of the doorway. “Simple run to Taco Bell, nothing too exciting.”

Louis walks in to see all of Liam’s dorm mates gone, probably still at their houses for the break. A pant of envy settles in Louis’ stomach – everyone has families they can go back home too but not him. Louis swore he’d never go back to that house ever again after everything he’d gone through. He just couldn’t afford it.

Pushing the feeling away, Louis plops down on his favorite couch and throws his feet on the table. For some reason, he only has a minor headache, which is strange considering how much he drank last night. He should be as immobilized as Niall so this is a new one. Maybe his brain is fueling itself off of the alcohol and sleep deprivation, which would be a new type of drug that could benefit Louis greatly.

Liam and Louis lounge around for a bit, talking and laughing too loud until Louis gets a headache. Liam has to fetch him some painkillers as Louis lies dejectedly on the couch with the cushion pressed against his cheek. He rubs his skin on the fabric and groans.

“Headaches are Satan,” Louis says, “and this headache is from the alcohol. And if a headache is caused by alcohol, that means alcohol is made by Satan.”

“I wonder where you get your logic.” Liam brings back three pills with a glass full of ice water. Louis mentally praises the existence of Liam Payne as he sits up and takes a sip. It feels refreshing on his throat and he takes the pills and drinks more until the glass is half-empty.

It’s quiet and Louis feels rather awkward. He doesn’t know how to bring up last night because he feels like _something_ happened; he just can’t place what it is. Once he’s sure his awkwardness could fill up an entire football stadium, he clears his throat.

“So…last night…” He trails off, twisting the glass in his hands, “did I happen to, I don’t know, say anything?”

“Hm?” Liam seems to have just broken out of a stupor. “Oh, yeah, you did. You told me your secret, about how you haven’t had sex before. And I’m the only one that knows.”

Louis slaps a hand to his forehead and drags it down his face slowly. He swears he’s never getting drunk again, he gets too careless and one day it’ll come back to bite him in the ass.

“Okay, lets just keep that between you and me, then, please? I really don’t want anyone to find out.” Louis says, his cheeks burning with shame.

He doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed; maybe because he’s twenty-two and hasn’t ever gotten laid, or maybe it’s the fact that he’d rather lie and feel guilty about not having sex which doesn’t even make sense in the first place. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself – having lied all this time only to be exposed and kicked out. That would be humiliating. 

Liam gives him a look. “I’m the last person to tell anyone anything. Does it look like I have any other friends besides you and Niall?” The question is rhetorical, but Louis and Liam both grin regardless. Liam continues. “Besides, it’s your choice whether to tell him or not. I’m just glad you talked to me, it helps me understand you a bit more.” He says, and Louis just wants to lock him up in a cupboard and save him from the cruel world that Liam Payne is too worthy to be in.

“Oh stop, you’re making me blush.” He flutters his eyelashes dramatically. He’s caught off guard when his phone suddenly rings in his pocket. Both him and Liam’s eyebrows scrunch together and he fists it out of his pocket, seeing the caller ID says _Zayn._

Louis’ entire demeanor lights up and he holds up a finger to Liam, slipping out the front door onto the long deck that leads to all the dorms on the third floor. “‘Ello?” 

 _“Louis!”_ Zayn exclaims, and Louis smiles. It’s refreshing to hear Zayn’s distinctive voice. Even if Louis were to be blindfolded underwater with soundproof headphones on he’d still be able to differentiate the aquatic sound waves of his voice. It may be a bit freaky, Louis admits, but him and Zayn have been close ever since third grade. They’re partners in crime and a match made in heaven, that is, until Zayn moved to California. Louis doesn’t want to think about that right now, so he shifts his thoughts back to the conversation. _“Are you hung-over today?”_

He laughs. “A bit, how’d you know?”

Zayn chuckles on the other end. _“You’re very predictable, I can also hear it in your voice.”_

“Whatever. Stop pretending like you know me inside and out.” Louis says sarcastically. “Oh, you’ll never guess what though. Niall beat his own shot record last night.”

Zayn sighs hopelessly on the other end. _“I swear that kid is going to get alcohol poisoning.”_

“He’s Irish, it’s in his blood.” Louis leans against the railing and takes in a deep breath. “So what about you? Isn’t it the ass-crack of dawn there?”

 _“It’s nine AM, thank you. I would never subject myself to getting up at the “ass-crack of dawn” during a holiday, especially New Years.”_ There’s a crinkling sound on the other end of the line and Louis vaguely wonders if he’s opening a Ziploc bag. _“I normally get up earlier but I figured I could sleep in today.”_

“That’s sleeping in for you?” Louis asks. “Ew. I would never want to be you.”

Zayn laughs, but Louis feels like it’s somewhat forced. Obviously he called for some reason other than to pointlessly ask if he’s hung over. Louis taps his fingers on the railing and his eyes rake across campus.

“Soo…you calling for anything specific?”

 _“Hm?”_ Zayn pauses, his voice muffled and the crinkling stops and that confirms to Louis that he’s about to take a hit. Damn, this early in the morning too. Zayn must really be going through a crisis, Louis never remembers him doing it before noon. He must’ve not been joking when he said a few weeks ago that he goes hard or goes home. Louis feels a strange sense of pride swelling inside of him. _“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and see how you were. It’s my New Years goal to call you every week so I know you’re not dead. You haven’t called me recently so I was wondering how things were going.”_

Louis snorts. Zayn is just like a clingy girlfriend. Not that he cares, it’s just funny. “Nah, everything is still the same. The house just had a bigass New Years party last night but that’s about the highlight of my break. All our exams are over so things are pretty boring.”

 _“You should come visit me then!”_ Zayn says, and Louis has the distinct image of smoke flying out of his mouth as he speaks. Louis hasn’t taken a hit in so long he’s ashamed of himself. _“I have a week off.”_

“I would but you forget that I’m broke.” Louis says. “You should come here, make things more interesting. You could meet Liam, too, since all I ever talk about is you. You two would get along great.”

 _“Aww,”_ Zayn says and Louis hears him flick the lighter a few times. _“I’m honored. But we could also just stay in touch like normal friends and not disappear off the face of the earth for weeks at a time.”_

Louis rolls his eyes. “I didn’t call you for what, five days? You’re clingy as fuck.”

Zayn chuckles. _“I’m tellin’ ya, you need to come out to California over the summer. The weather’s not much different and it’s not as humid.”_ He takes in a long drag of the blunt. _“And honest to God you can get the best weed here. Good shit.”_

“I seriously can’t believe you’re smoking this early.”

 _“A man has his needs,”_ Zayn says, _“and speaking of needs, have you found someone to stroke your fat ego? You haven’t had a girlfriend since fifth grade.”_

“She wasn’t my girlfriend, we held hands at recess _once_.” Louis rolls his eyes. _That’s_ why Zayn called, to ask if he’s found someone. Of course he hasn’t, Zayn has to remember that all throughout middle school the girls always said Zayn was the “hot friend” and they befriended Louis just to get close to him and then get Zayn’s number. It was manipulative and frankly Louis still doesn’t appreciate that one girl named Serena from his English class who used that exact tactic. There must be too much smoke in the room for Zayn to remember that. “And no, I haven’t.”

 _“And you’re in a fraternity where the requirements are you’ve had to have sex,”_ Zayn says smugly. He’s clearly taunting Louis. He’s such an asshole; Louis hates Zayn in a loving way when he’s high. He’s overly honest and has no filter. _“Ironic.”_

“Shut up.” Louis mutters, folding his arms on the railing, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

 _“I’ve told you to leave a thousand times, why haven’t you?"_  

“Because it’s not that easy.”

 _“Louis,”_ Zayn says sternly, _“You can do whatever the hell you want, fuck those fraternity boys. I know Niall is your friend and you swore your oath to that cult but you have to do something for yourself once in a while. Move to a different college if you have to, it really isn’t that hard. You can even come here if you’d like even though you don’t have a creative bone in your body.”_

Louis lets out an exasperated sigh, fisting his hands through his hair. “No, I’m not going to leave. I just, I just need to find someone decent and get a quick fuck out of them before I dump them. I have a plan but so far it’s not working.”

_“What’s the plan?”_

“Find someone good looking, lead them on to where they like me enough to have sex with me then I take them in the bedroom. It’s quick and easy and gets rid of my guilty conscious.”

_“And how’s that workin’ out for you?”_

Louis scowls. “Not so great.”

Zayn lets out an arrogant sigh _. “Maybe it’s a sign,”_ Louis imagines Zayn as an Egyptian prince lying on a fancy couch being fanned by peacock feathers and fed grapes while lazily holding the blunt to his lips, letting out rings of smoke, and Louis honest-to-God wants to strangle him, _“that you should get out of that fraternity.”_

“Whatever. If you just called to bitch at me for not having a girlfriend then go to hell.” Louis hates arguing with Zayn, but he has a right to stand up for himself. He may still be partly hung over and Zayn is high, so right now they are most definitely not a match made in heaven. The time zones must be messing with their circadian rhythms and with how well they get along, because right now Louis isn’t feeling a good vibe from Zayn.

 _“Well fuck you too, I hope your plan flops.”_ Zayn says and then hangs up.

Louis’ mouth drops and he stares at his phone incredulously. Seriously? In one of the most crucial times in Louis’ life Zayn is bailing on him now? Whatever happened to all the “New Year New Me” shit Zayn had been preaching about only a week prior? Louis is tempted to chuck his phone across campus and let it shatter, but he doesn’t because it’ll cost money he doesn’t have to repair it.

Instead, Louis kicks the railing, making a loud ring echo through the entire metal perimeter. He cringes as his foot now hurts. He’s tempted to chop it off to make the pain stop. It wouldn’t matter anyway, he doesn’t have dignity nor sanity so what difference does a foot make?

Louis’ had this plan for months in the making. He always finds a suitable candidate but can’t bring himself to get their number and actually call them the next day. He’s had his finger hovered over multiple girls’ names in his contacts but never actually clicks it. He’s gotten into the bedroom with a few girls as well but every time the clothes come off it suddenly becomes too real. His nerves kick in and say, “you’ll forever regret this.” Louis never wants to hold the responsibility of that emotional attachment. If in that situation there’s no way out whatsoever, he’ll make the girl come but never himself, and afterwards he has to flee back to his room where he takes care of himself, unsatisfied, angry and bitter.

Over the months he’s built tolerance up to seduction so now it hardly means anything to him. It’ll take someone really special for him to even consider taking to bed, he just doesn’t know where to find them. He sees the same girls over and over every single day and none of them are interesting or even hot for that matter. Louis growls and clenches his fingers in his hair and hits the railing with his fist. Why is he such a coward? Why can’t he just be some emotionless robot who has no consideration for other people’s feelings?

Louis really doesn’t want to go back inside Liam’s room, so he sends him a text saying he’s gone on a run, which Liam asks if he wants company and Louis says no. It’s not a complete lie; Louis is on a run but not physically, he’s running from his emotions. He needs to go take a fifty-year nap and then maybe his emotions will be repressed enough for him to be suitable to go back into public. 

There’s a certain limit with his level of openness in the fraternity. As a rule, every boy is supposed to share everything such as their likes, dislikes, childhood memories, fears, their darkest secrets, and all that brother bonding shit Louis could care less about. But, what he has discovered with his very keen intuitive people skills is that some of the boys still have secrets they haven’t shared. It makes Louis feel less trashy and less of a pity case to know he’s not the only one who wants to keep something from the other boys, and Jasper just so happens to be one of those boys who is hiding something. 

Jasper is his main source of cannabis. He hides it in his nightstand, which usually Louis would find petty, but the thing is, it isn’t just an _ordinary_ nightstand. Jasper has a bad case of obsessive-compulsive disorder when it comes to things being organized, so this particular nightstand he handmade from scratch. It has a secret compartment underneath the top drawer. It’s quite simple, really. Louis has gotten into the drawer so many times he could do it blindfolded.

There’s a hole underneath the top drawer, and to access the secret compartment someone simply has to push a pencil in the hole. It acts as a barrier between two electric rods that line the drawer all the way to a back where a small torch is always ready to be lit. If someone were to insert the pencil to remove the top compartment then take the pencil out, it would trigger the electric rods and light the torch, ultimately burning all the evidence. In order to not trigger the torch, the pencil must be left in the hole at all times while someone pulled the board from the bottom of the drawer to access the weed or whatever miscellaneous items Jasper felt like hiding.

Jasper is a mad genius for coming up with something so intricate but he’s also a prick about it. He hardly shares any weed with Louis unless Louis is in bad emotional stress or it’s an emergency. Which, Louis claims it’s one of those emotionally stressful times, so he finds Jasper on his bed “studying”.

The first time Louis met Jasper he immediately noticed how alarmingly similar he looked to Jasper from the _Twilight_ series – Louis will forever deny all the way to his grave that he went and saw the midnight premiere of _New Moon_ – which was quite ironic. Jasper always got questioned endlessly whether he was a vampire or not, and Louis liked to give him shit for it. Jasper and Chad are really the only ones who can fully handle Louis’ sarcasm besides Niall. The rest of the boys are either too sensitive or think Louis is just really ignorant.

Louis remembers the first time he came home early from class because he felt sick and walked in on Jasper and Chad completely stoned in the living room, dreary and red-eyed mumbling about the mass of the sun and if there were other extraterrestrial beings that watched them through their satellites. That was the night Louis officially decided he liked this fraternity and they all became weed buddies. It’s their little secret; what Nick doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

As Louis knocks on the doorframe, Jasper’s face lights up when he sees him. “Louiiiis. Come in.”

Louis plops on the bottom of the bed on his stomach and sprawls his legs out. It feels so good to lie down at relax, he feels like he’s been awake for thirty-seven years when in reality it’s only been two and a half hours.

“One of those days, huh?” Jasper immediately knows, he always does. Besides Zayn, Jasper has to be one of the only boys who _really_ knows Louis for who he actually is, both high and intoxicated, minus his little secret. Jasper has seen both the good and bad parts of Louis under the influence whereas Liam has only seen the good. The only thing Jasper _doesn’t_ know is Louis’ past, but then again, Louis likes to keep it that way.

Louis nods, throwing a hand in the direction of the elaborate nightstand.

“Do you have any…?” He trails off, knowing Jasper will understand. Jasper shuts his book sharply and slides off his bed.

“Maybe, but why should I give some to you?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Because I can pay you back. In otter-pops, if you were going to ask.”

Jasper laughs. “Oh Louis, you know how much I love those.” He taps Louis on the nose and sets his book back on the shelf. Louis rolls to his back and groans.

“Please, I’m dying of my inner Shakespearian soul trying to sing an ode to my imminent death. I think I’m overdue.”

“You’re such a poet.” Jasper says. “But unfortunately your ode may come to pass, I’m all out. You could go ask Chad, he was the last one to have some.” He’s completely dismissing Louis’ presence now. Huh, that’s odd, but Louis flips him an obscene gesture anyway before trudging downstairs to find Chad.

“Chaaaaaaaaad,” Louis calls. There’s no response. Louis frowns and gathers all the air in his lungs. “Chad!” His own voice rings in his ears and brings his headache back. Louis groans and presses his fists to his temples.

“What?” Louis hears Chad yell from upstairs. Louis huffs and goes back up the stairs. He checks in all the rooms and only his and Niall’s door is closed. He raises and eyebrow and knocks tentatively. For fucks sake it’s his own room, he shouldn’t have to knock.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, you dick.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Sorry, don’t know anyone by the name Yu Dich!”

Louis lets out a laugh and opens his door, seeing Chad smiling from ear to ear. Niall is still passed out on his bed and Louis looks at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing in here?”

Chad shrugs. “Figured this was the quietest place to study. He’s dead asleep anyway and Jasper was working on something weird. I didn’t want to get involved whatever it was.”

“Uh-huh.” Louis shuts the door slowly. “Listen, I need to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Louis gives him _the look_ and Chad purses his lips. “You already went to Jasper, didn’t you?”

Louis nods and Chad gives him a sheepish grin, which can only mean one thing. Louis feels his killer headache intensify times twelve.

“How could you be out?” Louis exclaims. He wants to rip all his hair out. Never in his whole two and a half years of being in this house have they _ever_ been out.

“That stuff is hard to come by, okay? Especially right now.” Chad retorts, closing his book and leaning on the backboard. “Don’t be mad at me, Jasper’s the one who gets it, you and I just pay him. It’s hard to hide it especially with Nick scrounging our rooms like a rat!”

“Well he is one, so that’s not surprising.” Louis grumbles. “Is this house some type of communist society? Can’t we just be an anarchy?”

“Okay _Spooky Boogie.”_ Chad says, and Louis cuffs him upside the head. “Ow! Sorry, sorry. You’re moody today.”

“Call it post-clubbing hangover.” He says lying on his own bed.

Louis sighs. He just wants to sleep the rest of his life and never wake up, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. The only possible source that keeps his sanity in check isn’t available, he needs ibuprofen, he’s probably dehydrated, he’s never properly gotten laid, and he’s stuck in a fuckboy house he doesn’t even like. His life is just peachy.

“When’s the last time you got laid?” Chad asks offhandedly. Louis chokes on nothing and Chad gives him a weird look. He clears his throat to play it off cool.

“Not last night, if that’s what you’re asking.” Louis’ voice is hoarse as he speaks.

“Well that’s why! You needa get laid, dude.” He chuckles. “Haven’t you found someone yet?”

“For the second time today, no.” Louis is on his last string of patience. He's going to paddleboat to a waterfall off the face of the earth if he gets asked that one more time. He needs to hurry up with this damn plan if he wants to live to his twenty-third birthday.

Deciding that he’s not in the mood for an interrogation as to why he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend yet, Louis rolls off his bed and heads to the door. "I'm going to Albertsons, do you want shit or what?"

"Get me some Açai berries," He says, and Louis stops in the doorframe and raises an eyebrow. At the disconcerting look, Chad elaborates. "They're in a white package, little things covered in chocolate, they're kind of like blueberries–"

"Yeah, you're on your own." Louis quickly grabs his keys from his nightstand, and when Jasper calls out for something he throws him a middle finger as he passes by his room, sending a text to Liam saying he’s going to the store. Liam simply replies with a _‘Since when did you become an addition to society?’_ Louis replies with: _Fuck you_.

After getting a hand-basket full of pain killers and chocolate bars, Louis is in the frozen food aisle of Albertsons with a pizza in hand deciding what toxins he wants to spoon feed his body for the next month and whether he wants stuffed or thin crust when he notices a boy diagonal from him with glasses who looks severely out of place checking out the sale on men’s shampoo. He's wearing a brown sweater vest – which even with Louis’ lack of trendiness he still knows it’s terribly out of style – over a white long sleeve and his hair is gelled to the side.

Louis blinks, knowing fully well that he must be new, because Louis has lived in this state on more fingers than he has on both hands and he knows everyone in the area starting from the neighborhood hermit crabs all the way to the oldest senior in the Retired Living Home. Gel-boy is definitely not a familiar face.

"There's a better sale at Wal-Mart." Louis says gesturing to the shampoo bottle. The boy freezes when he realizes Louis is talking to him, but right now Louis doesn't give a shit, so he continues. "Theirs is thirty-five percent off, it has to do with getting in all the new scents for spring. Just thought I'd save you five dollars."

"O-Oh,” He clears his throat and looks to the floor, blinking a few times before nodding. “Um, okay." He puts the bottle back on the shelf. "Thanks." His high voice is astonishingly quiet as he avoids eye contact with Louis and shuffles past him, which the sirens in Louis' brain go off as automatically suspicious, so Louis swings around and puts on his best acting smile.

"I'm Louis, what's your name?"

Glasses boy stops mid-step, slowly turning his head as if he were going to be met with a monster in a horror movie. He’s actually not too far off, but Louis keeps his encouraging smile on his face, hand-basket dangling from his left arm, frozen pizza still in hand, the other hand outstretched. He timidly shuffles towards Louis and takes his hand, their eyes finally meeting for the first time.

"M-Marcel."

Which, wow, he has the most breath taking eyes Louis has ever seen that it almost makes his name go in one of Louis' ears and out the other. They're a deep sea green with flecks of gray and Louis finds himself wondering when he suddenly became so interested in eyes. Maybe he’ll go into optometry. He shakes his thoughts and clears his throat, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Louis Tomlinson."

Marcel cracks a smile. "You just said that."

And now Louis feels like an idiot. He pulls his hand back, wiping it on his jeans and clearing his throat again. His headache is miraculously gone and has now been replaced with the burning impression of embarrassment. The hand-basket slips to his wrist and he fumbles to stabilize it. "Well, just thought I'd give you my full name to be friendly. Are you new around here?"

Marcel tenses up again and takes a step back, eyes darting to the floor. "Um, y-yeah, I, I, uh, just moved here." 

"From where?" Louis can't help but pry. He wants to know the secret formula for having such incredibly fascinating eyes. And his smile isn't too bad either; just his sense of style is so three years ago. His stutter is something that can be overlooked. 

"Back west," He says quickly, glancing around for something Louis couldn't pinpoint. To Louis, it looks like he wants to flee to the nearest restroom to either wank furiously at the sight of Louis’ sexy body or get out of his presence altogether; Louis certainly hopes it’s the latter. 

"Oh, well, sorry to bother you. I've just lived here a long time so I didn't recognize you." Louis smiles and Marcel gives him a half-smile (it looks more like a grimace if you ask Louis). "I should go now, it was nice meeting you."

Marcel nods and turns on his heels, fleeing to the end of the aisle. When he turns the corner, he knocks over two boxes of crackers with his hip and they land to the floor with a thud, making Louis snort out loud. He slaps a hand to his mouth and looks around to make sure nobody heard him. He won’t be publically shamed for laughing at someone’s clumsiness. 

Louis sighs deeply, his gaze still lingering on the block of tile Marcel had just been standing on. Marcel is endearing; eyes, smile, clumsiness, socially-awkwardness and all, Louis just wishes he had gotten his number so they could’ve had the chance to talk again. Maybe fate will put them in the same checkout line so they’ll be destined to talk to each other once more.

The frozen pizza in his hand isn’t so frozen anymore so he switches it out with a new one and presses the cool box to his head to will away the dull ache still residing in his skull. Since the boys back at the house will be starving and they’re too lazy to cook their own food, Louis grabs a few more boxes just for good measure. When he gets a few other groceries and heads to the checkout line, he stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck in search of Marcel. He’s nowhere to be seen, and Louis isn’t about to admit that disappointment is pooling in the deadly acids of his stomach.

The moment he gets back to the fraternity and dumps the eight boxes of pizzas on the counter, the boys immediately crowd around the table like a pack of scavenging wolves, fighting against which pizza should be cooked first and thanking Louis profusely. He just chuckles and calls them all animals before heading up to the bedrooms.

He throws the Açai berries that took him more than ten minutes to find at Chad’s head and he squeals with delight, making Niall stir from his sleep, then Louis makes his way to Jasper’s room only to find he’s not there. Scrunching his eyebrows together, Louis treads in cautiously, immediately spotting a note on Jasper’s bed. He picks it up gently with two fingers and his eyes scan over the note.

_Went to the cafeteria, be back in a bit ;)_

Louis loves Jasper.

**XxX**

"I brought your damn candy bar!" Louis yells as he approaches the park that's four blocks from campus. The code word for "smoke" is "the cafeteria", whether it’s weed or cigarettes, so whenever Jasper or Chad had some they wanted to share they would simply tell the boys they were “going to the cafeteria”. It’s the best code word they’ve ever come up with.

“That’s my boy!” Jasper grins, holding out his joint to Louis as he makes his way up the playground. Louis crawls in the small plastic tube and throws the candy bar right at his crotch. Jasper laughs as Louis snatches the joint from his fingers, picking up the lighter from the bottom of the tube, sparking the flame to life. He inhales deeply and lets his eyes flutter shut. Ah, he feels much better already.

“See, I knew you could find some, it just took a little bribing.” The smoke drifts from Louis’ lips as he speaks. The sensation is so calming to him; this is his only form of solace in his confusing post-adolescent life. If his mother knew he smoked she’d kill him, but that was just another excuse to not ever go home, not that Louis would anyway.

The two sit there in silence, passing the joint back and forth making small talk. It’s much quieter without Chad running his immature mouth off so it’s peaceful inside the plastic tube connecting the two platforms. The reason Jasper chose this park to be their meet up spot was because for one it’s far away enough from campus that they couldn’t possibly leave any evidence for their house tenant or Nick to find, and two because Jasper, Chad, and Louis did an experiment where they all took turns skipping class to see if any officers patrolled the area. They spent four days and three nights in this park simply to see if they could safely smoke here without being caught. After coming to learn that hardly anyone came here except an occasional hoard of kids for a birthday party, the park was completely safe.

It seems like hours pass before the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings in the city. Oranges and reds are starting to stream through the small oval holes of the plastic tub and Louis chops at the air, watching as the light disappears then reappears. He doesn’t know how long he’s been gone, and Niall is probably awake by now freaking out, so he pulls out his phone and stares at it with his drooping eyes and hazy mind.

**_From: Niall_ **

_Where u at?!?!?_

Louis lets out a strangled laugh, earning Jasper's attention.

**_To: Niall_ **

_Hangober frum yesterdAy :)))00)_

Too lazy to fix any of the errors, he clicks send and flicks the ashes around in the tube, pressing some on his finger and bringing it up eye-level to examine in. He’s about to stick his tongue out and lick it when his phone lights back up again.

**_From: Niall_ **

_Get ur white ass back here its important_

Louis groans dramatically, throwing his hands to the side to feign his death. Jasper lolls his head on his shoulder. 

"What?" 

"Whatzisdick wants me," He whines. His brain is having a hard time comprehending his sentences. He must really be an emotional wreck if he’s struggling this badly. “Need to go back.”

"Fine." Jasper flicks the butt of the blunt out the oval hole with disinterest. "Tell them I got mugged or something and you saved me."

Louis gives him a lazy salute and crawls out of the tube, falling to the platform. His face presses against the holes and makes a design on his cheek. It’s uncomfortable and he’s tired. So, so tired.

Eventually Louis gathers enough strength to crawl off the playground. He slides down the slide for good measure as a metaphorical omen of his transition from childhood into adulthood and trudges back to campus, cursing the day he didn’t drive with every step. Once he’s back on campus, he sees some of his classmates lounging about, either on the grass or on benches or retiring back to their dorm for the night. It’s been a long month having to study for exams then the New Years party and the after after party from last night. Louis can’t believe he’s still alive after all that alcohol and lack of sleep. 

Before he even takes two steps in the door of the fraternity, Niall tackles him roughly then immediately stops. He leans in close to Louis’ ear and his nostrils flare. He glances around the room cautiously.

“Were you smoking?”

Louis gives him an unattractively sarcastic look then heads towards the stairs. “What makes you think that?”

“Well first, you smell like shit.” Niall looks Louis up and down. “And second, you look like shit.”

“Welcome to the end of exams and the day after a party, do you want a side of fries with that?” Louis says snidely as he walks up the stairs. Niall scowls and trails behind him.

“Louis, we really need to talk.”

“Let me shower first, since apparently I’m shit itself.” He says. When they get to the top of the stairs, Niall grabs Louis’ wrist and turns him around. Louis lets out a squeak of protest and tries to yank out of his grasp but to no avail. He’s too weak and hazed to even dream of being stronger than Niall right now.

“Louis,” Niall says sternly, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His eyes are swirling with a dangerous severity that Louis didn’t know he was even capable of capacitating in his brain. The most emotion Louis has ever seen Niall show was in the middle of a golf tournament on national television between some hot-shot other than Tiger Woods that Niall had bet his entire savings-worth on with his brother. “You lied about having sex?”

Forget about Tiger Woods, Louis has to hold back the choking cough that makes its way up his throat. Even though there’s weed in his lungs and probably alcohol still draining from his abused liver and exhaustion laced in each crevice of his brain, the words still impact the same. There’s _no_ way Niall could possibly know, the only person who knows is–

Louis feels pure rage begin to swell in the pit of his stomach. Goddamn Liam fucking Payne.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Louis’ tone is threatening as he makes his way back down the stairs. He’s way too fucked up to deal with this right now. Niall grabs the back of his shirt and drags him into their room and locks the door once he shuts it.

“Louis, stop! It wasn’t his fault, I swear! It was mine, I know you’re high and drunk and probably all that other shit but just listen to me! Do you know how much trouble you could get in if Nick found out?”

Louis shrugs Niall’s hands off his shoulders. “Fuck off, of course I do! You don’t think I’ve thought through this? I _know_ what’ll happen, I’ll be kicked out, both yours and my reputation will be ruined, the house will fall apart and I’ll have to move to a different college if I have any hope of keeping my dignity. _Everything_ will turn to shit.”

Niall looks aghast. “Okay, so, why did you lie?”

“Do you know how fucking persistent you are?” Louis growls. “I was given the ultimatum of join this stupid fraternity or have you prodding me every month asking me if I’d decided yet.”

Niall blinks. “Okay…so why haven’t you had sex yet? You’ve had more than enough opportunities and you know that.”

Louis lets out a heavy sigh, trudging to his bed. He flops on the end and runs a hand over his forehead exasperated. This is too much thinking for him right now. Why couldn’t have Niall at least waited until he showered and had a nice date with his right hand?

"Because," He starts, then pauses, because he doesn't know where he's going with this, "because I don't know. You wanted this so badly I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I pretended to have sex with all of those girls you set me up with so you’d leave me alone, I didn’t want anyone to find out.” He hesitantly looks up at Niall through his fingers. “Especially you.”

Niall cocks his head to the side. “Why not?”

Louis shrugs, ultimately dispirited and passive. “Dunno. I guess I just didn’t know how you’d react.”

Niall doesn’t look angry, rather surprised. He slowly moves to sit next to Louis on the bed. “You thought I’d tell the other boys?”

Louis shrugs. He doesn’t want to answer any more questions, he just wants to go shower and turn into the Wicked Witch of the West so he can melt into the drain and live in the sewers where he belongs .

Niall lets out a small chuckle, and Louis clearly isn’t seeing the humor in this situation. “Lou, you really think I’d choose the other boys over you? We’ve been best friends since high school.” He nudges Louis’ shoulder and he cracks a smile despite his shitty self-esteem. Niall is one of the only people able to make him feel better about himself when he’s on a downward spiral such as this. “Don’t think I’d pick them over you because I wouldn’t.”

Louis rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “Okay, okay, stop being sappy.” Louis shoves Niall to the side and he laughs, and then suddenly is disconcerted. “You’re not going to tell Nick, are you?”

“What? No!” Niall sits back up with a defined scowl on his face. “You think I wanted you to get kicked out? We may have sworn an oath to no secrecy but clearly you’ve broken that rule,” He waves his hand in front of his nose to prove a point, which Louis rolls his eyes at, “so what makes this any different?”

Louis shrugs. “I mean, I dunno, I’ve kind of had this plan in the back of my mind for a few months I’ve just been too scared I guess.”

“What plan?”

Now that Louis is about to voice it out loud other than Liam who is so liberal with everything, he feels idiotic. “Find someone to fuck then be done with. Like a one night stand, except every time I’m about to I chicken out the last second.”

Niall blinks at him expressionless before bursting into a loud laughter. It takes Louis off guard and he flinches at the sound, narrowing his eyes.

“You want me to shave your head along with Liam’s?"

Niall’s laughter stops abruptly and he shoves Louis to the ground. “You’re such an idiot, why didn’t you tell me?”

Louis only glares at him.

“Good hell, you’ve been here almost three years and you’ve kept it a secret this whole time?” Niall breaks out into fits of laughter and Louis suddenly has a headache again. Fuck Niall and his infectious laughter and annoying personality. Louis wants to burn him alive.

“Shut up, it’s been so long that I just forgot.” He mutters. He should’ve expected as much from Niall, he doesn’t take anything seriously and laughs it off, even when his aunt died their first year in the fraternity Niall was laughing all day. It must be his coping mechanism, and Louis doesn’t blame him.

“Okay, so like, you,” Niall has tears in his eyes and is holding his stomach. “Louis Tomlinson, who told me all those years ago that you had sex, never actually did?”

“Nope.” Louis pops the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“God, I love you so much.” Niall says and Louis feels like he’s not the high one anymore. Maybe Niall is getting a second-hand high from the smell that followed him all the way from the park. “So like, what are you gonna do about it?”

Louis shrugs defiantly. He still really needs to shower and if Niall doesn’t let him go soon he’s going to throw him out the window into the flowerbed below. “Hell, if I know. It’s not as easy as you’d think it is, I’ve been trying for months.”

“Well then you’re just not trying hard enough.” Niall is really honing in on his natural sass he took on as a trait from Louis back in their third year of middle school. Louis wants to bash his skull into Jasper’s ingeniously crafted nightstand simply for the sake of hiding drugs.

“Now are ya gonna go shower? You smell.”

Louis throws a pillow at his face.

**XxX**

_January 4th_

Three days pass before Niall speaks up about Louis’ issue.

“We need to find you a fucking potential.” Niall claims that Saturday night when they’re retiring to bed. The night Liam had spilled to Niall about Louis’ small predicament, Liam had called to apologize and Louis had obviously forgiven him but not without the threat of pouring honey and feathers all over him in his sleep. The empty threat only made Liam more apologetic and it gave Louis a sadistic sense of satisfaction. Louis has just been waiting for Niall to bring it up since, and apparently he had some light bulb go off by the way his eyes are sparkling mischievously. Louis gives him a look to signify he’s listening.

“We can even give them a code name so no one knows what we’re talking about, like ‘FP’! How does that sound?”

Louis stares at Niall like he grew three heads and another dick. “That is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

Niall shrugs. “Well what else we you going to do?”

Louis petulantly pulls his covers up to his face. “I don’t know, let it go?”

Niall grins widely and Louis’ expression becomes horrified.

“Don’t you _dare_ start singing _Frozen_." 

“Aww, come on Tommo!” Niall prances around the furniture and plops on the end of Louis’ bed. “If you don’t do anything soon you’ll end up like Elsa, isolated and alone.”

“Or I could always end up like Anna, jumping into something I’m not ready for with someone who doesn’t even love me.” He retorts.

Niall looks offended. “Ouch.”

“Just saying.” Louis mutters.

There’s a long awkward silence after that. Niall is staring at the floor blinking and Louis just wants to be left alone. He feels terrible about the whole situation, really, and he frankly wants to stop thinking about it altogether. He just wants to continue on with his normal life and have normal friends in his normal fraternity and eat normal cereal and get normal boners when he sees a hot girl. Is that too much to ask for?

“You know,” Niall says, and Louis pokes his eyes over the covers, “I want to help you. It’s Sunday tomorrow so we already missed all the weekend parties, but we can still go look around for someone if you want.”

“No thanks.” Louis says and turns on his side.

Niall stares at him blankly and swallows. “Oh, sorry, let me rephrase that: we’re going to look for FP’s tomorrow whether you like it or not.” When Louis throws him a glare Niall simply responds with a cheesy grin. “No complaints!”

Louis rolls his eyes and kicks Niall off his bed.

**XxX**

Sunday morning is principally calm. Louis and Niall wait for one of the boys named Oliver to make them all breakfast, and Louis wonders why Niall hasn’t uttered a single word about their mission since last night. He doesn’t seem mad, he actually seems rather ecstatic to go out and search for fucking potentials (or as Niall keeps insisting they call them “FP’s”), regardless if Louis thinks it’s sacrilegious especially on a Sunday.

“But that's how you find all the rebels!” Niall claims once they’re getting dressed. “You need to find the ones who don’t go to church or just don’t care, it’s easier that way! Besides, we’re both going to hell anyway, so there’s no point in trying to repent now.”

He gets a face full of Louis’ dirty hampered shirt.

And that’s how Louis finds himself at the very left wing of campus by their fraternity, Niall and Liam by his sides and 911 on speed dial just in case he’s dragged into something where he’ll need immediate relief or even a tazer to the heart to put him out of his misery. He doesn’t know the first thing about finding a FP but Niall seems to have an idea based on how he’s stretching his arms and legs like he’s about to run a marathon.

“All right Louis,” Niall turns to him swiftly, making Louis flinch. Liam keeps looking at him sympathetically. “First, what color hair do you prefer?”

Louis stares at him blankly. It shouldn’t matter because he’s looking for a no-strings-attached relationship, not a future marriage partner. This is a simple fuck to ease his guilty conscious so he can move on with his life, it really shouldn’t be this complicated. “I don’t know, brown?”

Niall nods like a psychologist in the middle of a therapy session. Now all he needs is the crazy circle classes and a pen and notepad and the look will be complete. “Okay, what color of eyes?" 

Louis’ mind immediately relapses back to the frozen food aisle in Albertsons where he met Marcel and his lovely eyes. They were so deep, so emotional; it made Louis want to explore every part of them. His past, his present, his future, everything, and they only talked for a minimum of three minutes and twenty-six seconds. Not like Louis had been counting.

“Um, green?”

“Taller or shorter?”

Louis gives him a skeptical look. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant–”

“Just answer the question! Taller or shorter?”

He shrugs, his face contorting into a grimace. “I don’t know, tall I guess?”

“Ooh, he likes them tall ladies.” Niall suggestively raises his eyebrows at Liam and he shakes his head. “But you got that? Brown hair, green eyes, tall. Sounds like the recipe for perfection!”

Louis has to resist taking up the offer of the tazer.

Niall starts marching down the sidewalk, Liam by his side and Louis trailing behind begrudgingly. He doesn’t know why he has to do this, he can just wait until next weekend when they go to a bar and Niall finds him a girl and pushes them into the nearest bathroom stall. Niall doesn’t seem to want to wait, though, so Louis isn’t going to protest because he knows Niall is only trying to help him.

Niall, being the social bee he is, walks into every dorm – whether he’s allowed to or not – and gives everyone a friendly greeting before scanning the crowd then looking to Louis. Louis shakes his head and Niall bids everyone farewell and hopes they have a wonderful day. Louis hates him and his ability to woo people over with the simple lift of an eyebrow.

By the time they reach the main building, almost an hour has passed, and Louis is on his last string of patience. They still have the whole right wing to explore and he hasn’t found one girl that fits his fancy. Back at one of the dorms he caught a glance of the girl who gave him a lap dance and he quickly yanked Niall to the next room to avoid any awkward confrontations. He could always hook up with her, but she looked better with the lights off. Maybe that was the point, though, or maybe Louis is just being picky.

It was no secret that she, along with most other girls, would gladly have sex with him, (because who wouldn’t want too, he’s gorgeous), so why is he avoiding it?

“Okay, I’m tired.” Louis says once they reach the main office.

“What?” Niall exclaims. “We’re only halfway through campus, you can’t be tired yet!”

“Well unlike you, I was up late last night–” He continues to walk without seeing the oncoming door swinging open straight for his face. He hardly has time to hold his hands out defensively before the door hits him square in the nose. He recoils back as the person on the other side audibly gasps.

“Oops–” He peers around the door, immediately freezing when he sees Louis. Louis is holding the bridge of his nose when he finally looks up and sees the familiar face; glasses perched on nose, hair gelled neatly to the side, outdated sweater vest from the Napoleon Dynamite era, and the same deep sea green eyes he could recognize anywhere. Marcel.

“Hi,” He says, though it comes out more as a gasp.

There’s a long, stretched out silence that seems like hours as the office door finally swings closed, and Marcel’s eyes widen in utter fear.

“Y-You’re bleeding…”

Louis holds two fingers up to his nose and pulls them away only to see the red substance staining his fingerprints. Well, what a great second impression. He runs into a door and gets a bloody nose, it’s probably all over his shirt and in his mouth, and he probably looks like a vampire. If anything, he hopes he looks as attractive as Damon Salvatore.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Marcel says once the four of them are all huddled in the boys bathroom, Louis letting his nose bleed into the sink while the water runs warm. Marcel doesn’t seem to like blood at all the way he’s turned towards the wall slightly shaking and wringing his wrists and doing breathing exercises, but Louis doesn’t blame him. The sight of anyone’s blood other than his own makes him queasy.

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis says, blowing his nose into the rough wood fiber they call toilet paper. Niall looks utterly confused and Liam just looks constipated.

“So you two know each other then?” Liam asks, his voice echoing off the porcelain walls, and Louis looks at him through the mirror.

“Yeah, we uh, met at Albertsons.” He casts a look to Marcel who is still standing in the corner.

“When did you go to Albertsons?” Niall asks accusatory. Louis sends him a glare and presses the toilet paper to his nose.

“So, uh, Marcel,” Louis says, and Marcel slightly turns his head, “what are you doing here?”

He doesn’t respond right away. “Are you still bleeding?”

Louis scrunches his eyebrows then looks back in the mirror. The blood seems to have finally stopped but he’ll most likely have a bruise later on. “No.”

Marcel turns around hesitantly, as if he doesn’t believe Louis is telling the truth, and his shoulders visibly relax.

“Um, sorry, what was your question?”

Louis smiles. “I asked what are you doing here.”

“Enrolling for college,” He says carefully, “what are _you_ doing here?”

“This _is_ my college,” He retorts, and a glint of amusement makes it’s way to Marcel’s irises. Louis feels heat rising to his cheeks and clears his throat and he quickly looks away. “And running into doors, you know, because I’m an idiot.”

Marcel can’t help the grin that makes its way onto his lips and Louis definitely knows now that this is the beginning of infatuation. They stare at each other for a moment, lost in the feeling supposedly labeled “fond”, as Louis recalls, until he suddenly realizes that Liam and Niall are watching them awkwardly and probably questioning why Louis is inadvertently flirting with a stranger who smashed a door in his face. Louis clears his throat and the expression quickly drops from Marcel’s face.

“Oh, um, Marcel, this is Liam and Niall. Liam, Niall, this is Marcel.” He holds his hand out and takes a clumsy step back, tripping on the own heel of his Vans. He’s so beyond flustered he feels like his nose is going to start bleeding again, he just hopes and prays it doesn’t.

“Hi,” Marcel says shyly, and it’s the most adorable thing Louis has ever seen it makes him want to squish his cheeks.

Niall gives him a critical look. “So where are you from?” Louis can’t quite decipher the inflection of his voice since it doesn’t quite match his expression, so he watches Marcel shift uncomfortably.

“Um, back west.”

“What’s your last name?”

Marcel bites his lip. “Cox.”

“Are your parents divorced?”

Marcel’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not sure–”

“Niall, lay off him, would you?” Louis stands between them, giving Niall a look of _what the fuck._ Niall gives him a look back that says _just doing my job!_ Louis rolls his eyes.

“When’s your first day?” Liam asks, and thank every righteous deity in existence for him because it looks like if Niall asks one more question Marcel is going to bolt, and Louis doesn’t know if he can handle losing sight of Marcel again. He already went through the grieving process in the checkout line with his high sodium-induced frozen pizzas; he doesn’t need to go through that again. Fate is single-handedly placing Marcel in front of him on a silver platter saying _don’t fuck this up_ and he definitely intends not to.

“Um, when the new semester starts?” Marcel’s eyes dart around the room. “So I think next week.”

Liam nods affirming. “It is. What’s your major?”

Marcel seems conflicted by the way his eyebrows scrunch together and he wrings his wrists. “Mycology.”

Louis may only have an average IQ and maybe some, but in all his fifteen years of schooling he’s learned many things; including useless facts that have nothing to do with his major such as the scientific name for a platypus (ornithorhynchus anatinus), or the name of the largest star (VY Canis Majoris), so his brain racks through all of his useless knowledge until he suddenly remembers the root word ‘myco-’ means fungi, so he’s almost positive that means the study of fungi. Or more specifically, mushrooms. Marcel is studying mushrooms.

Huh. How strange it’s so fitting for someone as odd and misplaced as Marcel, Louis can’t help but feel like Marcel was a stereotypical nerd back in the day, home-schooled when he was little then thrust into the sick reality of the public education system, eventually finding his place in the chess club then getting engrossed in an intense game against his arch enemy while constantly pushing his glasses up his nose and recalling strategy cheats he looked up online thirty minutes prior. Louis has to cover his snicker at the thought.

Liam’s about to say something, but Niall cuts him off. “So do you want us to show you around then? It’s the least we could do.” Niall says sweetly, and then gives Louis a smug look. Louis clenches his teeth.

Marcel glances at Louis then back at Niall. “O-Oh, um, I don’t want to intrude or anything–”

“Nonsense!” Niall throws his arm over Marcel’s shoulders even though he’s a few inches taller. “We were having a nice stroll anyway, so it’s no problem.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Marcel gives him a smile but it quickly disappears. Interesting, Louis thinks. It doesn’t seem like Marcel is capable of holding an emotion for more than two seconds. He wonders why.

The whole ‘tour’ that’s really Niall being sickly sweet towards him trying to make Marcel spill every secret about his life. That’s just how Niall is, but along with being a conniving fuckboy with an ulterior motive he’s also cracking jokes about his classmates and the boys in the house and telling Marcel about his drinking record in the clubs. Whenever Louis’ name is brought up, Louis glances at Marcel to see if he has any reaction. He simply looks to the ground and nods and then looks back at Niall. Damn him and his emotionless face, Louis wants to permanently tape his cheeks up in a smile so Louis doesn’t feel so vulnerable. Maybe he can even pull a Joker and say, _“Why so serious?"_

Liam is staying quiet, bless him, while Louis is still on a streak of self-loathing; hating Niall, thanking Liam, and trying to not surgically remove Marcel’s eyes so he can preserve them and look at them for eternity. He needs a hit _really_ bad.

“Are you interested in joining a fraternity?” Niall asks, and Louis wants to butt in and answer, _of fucking course not you twat, he’d be eaten alive by the likes of you,_ but instead stays broodingly silent. Marcel shakes his head.

“U-Um, no thanks, I just want to focus on academics. I’ve…kind of gotten a bit behind.”

Niall tilts his head and they stop walking. “How old are you?”

Marcel’s eyes flicker to the ground, desperately looking at anything other than Niall. “Nineteen.”

The three of them deadpan at Marcel. He blinks, taking a cautious step back.

“Wh-What?”

“You’re nineteen and you think you’re _behind_?” Niall’s head drops forward in disbelief. Marcel just blinks at him, making Niall scoff. “Isn’t that like when you’re supposed to graduate?”

“Well I–” Marcel shuts his mouth and bites his lip. “U-Um, never mind.”

Niall is about to open his fat mouth but Louis slaps a hand over his face. Niall scowls and drags his tongue up Louis’ palm leaving a wet trail of saliva, but it doesn’t even faze Louis. He just rubs it back on Niall’s cheek, making him squeal and wipe off his face with his sleeve. Of _course_ Louis is also curious as to why Marcel thinks he’s behind when he’s only graduated last year, but knowing the minimum amount about Marcel has already spoken novels. He never likes answer questions and constantly acts like he’s at his judgment day. Louis doesn’t want to scare him off and he knows Niall will if he keeps asking questions.

“We can save that conversation for later. If you told us everything now, it’d be boring later.” Louis says, giving Marcel a reassuring smile. Marcel’s posture seems to relax minimally and Liam raises an eyebrow at his subconscious actions. Marcel catches Liam’s eye and looks to the ground and clears his throat.

“Do you know where your dorm is?” Louis asks. Marcel stares at him before nodding and pulls a paper out of his pocket. Liam leans over Louis’ shoulder as he unfolds the paper. On it is Marcel’s classes, the room numbers of the classrooms, his dorm, and other miscellaneous stuff Louis is too lazy to memorize. Coincidentally Marcel has been placed in the empty dorm to the left of Liam’s room, how convenient.

“That’s right next to mine.” Liam says, and Louis wants to slap him for voicing his thoughts out loud. “It’s in the left wing, do you want to head there now?”

Marcel nods, and they all turn around to head the other direction. Louis is too lost in his thoughts to notice Niall trailing behind them begrudgingly, but it’s not like he’d pay attention to him in the first place, his thoughts are too occupied with Marcel. Since him and Liam have rooms right next to each other does that mean they’ll become better friends? Louis and Niall are both five minutes away so that could put a wedge in their friendship. Will Marcel end up liking Liam better and dumping Louis for all his fraternity boys? Will Marcel completely reject Louis because of his position in the fraternity house? Louis slaps his cheeks, why is he even thinking about this? It’s just Marcel. Nerdy, weird, awkward Marcel that he met in the frozen food aisle of Albertsons. Marcel, the one who has a hard time keeping eye contact and has a phobia of blood. Louis growls and falls into step with Niall, their moods a clear reflection of each other’s but for different reasons.

“So what’s your deal?” Louis asks sharply, his voice hardly above a whisper. Niall gives him an accusatory look.

“Brown hair, green eyes, _tall_? Louis, you’re totally into him!”

 _“What?”_ He exclaims a bit too loudly, gaining Liam and Marcel’s attentions. They turn around and Louis gives them an apologetic wave before looking back at Niall. “What?"

“I’ve never seen you look twice at any girl, Lou.” He says. “But Marcel? You turn into a fucking ray of sunshine.”

“Do not!” Louis narrows his eyes and sends a glare to the back of Marcel’s head. There’s no way, they literally just met yesterday and then Marcel slammed a door into Louis’ face. That’s one strike on Louis’ “ _Moral Enemies”_ list. “He’s way too weird for me.”

“Uh-huh.” Niall says, sounding as unconvincing and sarcastic as he could possibly be. “Sure.”

“Shut up.” He punches Niall in the arm, shoving his hands in his pockets afterwards. So what if he secretly finds Marcel endearing, he’s really weird and antisocial and Louis is risking his reputation just touring him around campus. At least Liam is with them so it doesn’t seem as weird.

Louis sighs. Why is he worried in the first place if Marcel likes Liam more than him? Louis honestly wouldn’t blame Marcel, he’s a piece of shit and has done nothing with his life whereas Liam is actually headed down a career path and isn’t too painful on the eyes either. They have more in common, too; they’re both in the same social standing, both regular students who stay in regular dorms with no particular talents. It doesn’t matter that Marcel makes Louis feel weirdly safe and like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not. It doesn’t matter that Louis is fascinated by Marcel’s eyes and wants to feature his professionally gelled hair in a L’Oreal commercial then afterwards make it wild and unruly. It doesn’t matter that he already feels this way and they only met three days ago. It just doesn’t matter.

Louis is pulled out of his stupor when Niall slaps him. “Ow! What?”

“Liam’s been saying your name for five minutes.” Niall has a smirk as wide as the Amazon River and Louis wants to throw him in a garbage disposal. Hopefully it crushes all his bones and organs so he can’t make it out alive to tell Louis _“I told you so.”_

“Sorry, what?” He shakes his head. He really needs to pull himself together.

“Are you doing anything the rest of the day? I thought we could help Marcel move in.”

Of fucking course he did. Once again, Liam is the superhero getting on everyone’s good side, now Louis is positive Marcel will take more of a fancy to Liam rather than him. He’s never wanted to throw himself over a cliff more; the last thing he wants to do is help Marcel. Not because he’s selfish or lazy – that’s definitely not the reason – but because he’s emotionally vulnerable and doesn’t know how well he can keep himself together in front of Marcel. He wants to go back to his room, lock the door, wank until he’s red and raw, sleep for fifteen years, re-evaluate his decisions and life choices, then maybe he’ll be ready to face society again. He could always pull the _“I have the overwhelming urge to go repent of my sins, please excuse me while I go to church and bathe in holy water”_ excuse, but he knows Liam and Niall won’t buy it, especially now. Louis hasn’t been to church since he was seven and they know that.

The whole plan of finding a fucking potential and Louis contemplating leaving the fraternity and the fact that him and Zayn haven’t talked for a whole twenty-four hours is really starting to pile on the stress. Louis feels like pieces of him are scattered in different dimensions and he doesn’t know how to gather them back up. He’s just clinging to whatever type of solace he can, weed, alcohol, video games, Niall, Liam, and now Marcel, which is becoming a pressing issue. Louis doesn’t even know him and is already trying to create an intimate bond with him; something neither he nor Marcel wants to do, and it’s obvious. Marcel is closed off, Louis is definitely closed off, and he’s driving himself insane with wanting something he knows he can’t ever have.

As Louis is breathing deeply and calmly, rebuilding the concrete walls around his emotional state, Marcel speaks up.

“I-I really don’t have a lot of stuff, I promise. You don’t have to go to the trouble–” Marcel is relentlessly wringing his wrists and Niall interrupts.

“It’s not trouble at all!” He slings his arm around Marcel’s shoulders, making him flinch. Louis rolls his eyes. If Marcel is going to start hanging out with them he’s going to have to get used to Niall always being touchy-feely. It’s just a part of his annoyingly charming persona.

“Um, okay…” Marcel says hesitantly. “My stuff is in the car.”

If Louis was more freakily analytical like Zayn, he would’ve noticed Marcel said “ _the_ car” instead of “ _my_ car”, but since he’s too busy trying not to stare at Marcel’s ass and he doesn’t like jumping to conclusions, he doesn’t. He figures he can’t stand walking next to Marcel without having an impulse to touch him somehow, whether it be a light brush of the shoulders or hands, so he opts to walk behind him. Unfortunately, it turns out to be a worse idea and Louis has to keep his gaze locked on the edge of the sidewalk where the cement meets the grass and convince himself that watching small bugs hop from blade to blade is more interesting than Marcel’s tantalizing hips swaying back and forth unknowingly provocative. Okay, so Marcel has upgraded to Louis’ _“Tolerating”_ list.

They get to the parking lot and Marcel digs the keys out of his pocket and unlocks the trunk. It’s simply a small silver Camry and again is very fitting for Marcel’s personality. Dull, a little outdated, and quite common. Louis is just being plain rude now as he watches Marcel pull a blue duffle bag towards him, but that’s because he’s trying to convince himself that he won’t get attached. It’s one of his coping mechanisms he often uses if he feels like he’s starting to cross a line especially in relationships; he convinces himself the other person is trash by internally insulting them. It obviously causes Louis lots of distress because his brain likes to contradict his convincing statements only for his own sanity but he found it’s the only thing that works. If convincing himself Marcel is a shitty person helps him not feel like a shitty person then he’ll do it.

Marcel hands the duffle bag to Liam and then grabs a plastic Wal-Mart bag resting next to it, and Louis spots bottles of shampoo and conditioner in it. He’s conflicted between feeling smug because Marcel actually took his advice to heart and feeling embarrassment because Marcel _actually_ took his advice, for Gods sake. Whatever the case, Louis tries to avert his thoughts back to the car. Judging by the license plate, it looks like a rental. It’s dumb, plain, and stupid, just like Louis. Wait, he’s supposed to be saying that about Marcel. Damnit.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t have a lot of stuff.” Liam says, and Louis wants to slap a sign that says _“thank you captain obvious”_ on his forehead. Niall is staring at the Wal-Mart bag like a foreign species.

“You don’t have any bedspread? Any furniture?” He asks, and Marcel shakes his head sheepishly.

Niall lets out a heavy sigh then rests his arms over Liam and Louis’ shoulders, the Wal-Mart bag full of hair product dangling over Louis’ right arm. The plastic tickles his bicep and he tries to shrug Niall’s arm off his shoulders but he only holds on tighter.

“Mates, are you up for a shopping spree?”

**XxX**

After many no, hell no, and fuck no's later they're in the checkout line and Louis is impatiently tapping his foot as his entire body is incapacitated by a simple Aztec printed bedspread. Niall convinced Marcel to get the patterned bedspread, which of course they gave the large item to Louis for him to carry even though he’s the smallest and has the shortest arms out of all of them. When Niall plopped the bedspread in Louis’ arms and he struggled to stay upright, Marcel seemed to let out a half-giggle but then quickly stopped when Louis looked at him.

They bought necessities for Marcel’s dorm since he seemed to move from the barren outback in the Sahara Desert; things like pillows (Liam had to convince Niall that decorative pillows were unnecessary), the bedspread, pens and pencils, notebooks, paper, a small messenger bag, and other school shit Louis remembers shopping for back in his elementary days. He was tempted to sneak a sparkly rainbow Lisa Frank leopard folder in the pile of school supplies set in the shopping cart but changed his mind when his inner voice reminded him that Marcel might not have the same humor as him. He then put the folder back with the burning impression of shame.

Once all the items are rung up, Marcel pulls out a wad of cash – making Louis, Liam, and Niall’s mouths drop – and hands it to the cashier. She takes it unfazed and proceeds to count it. Louis peers past Marcel's shoulder to see his driver's license clearly in the front, hair askew and curly as he offers a smile to the camera. Marcel slaps his wallet shut before Louis can look at anything else. This definitely raises Louis’ suspicions; why is Marcel using cash instead of a card? It’s much easier in the transaction process and it would be on his record other than just a receipt so he can remember what he bought if he needs to return anything.

"That's a load of cash you got there," Liam says. Damn him for voicing Louis' thoughts once again.

"Yeah…" Marcel says. "It's easier than using a debit card."

Easier? Louis has never thought of cash as easy. Back in his early teens he used to work at a snack shack at a community water park to earn any sort of money he could and was in charge of the register. On days where his brain was really slow, he could hardly tell the difference between a nickel and a dime and it took him half a minute to count the total for a two dollar and ninety-five cent hot dog. The customers were never very happy with him having to stand there shivering in their shrunken bathing suits starving and waiting for their processed meat in a bun with red and yellow high-fructose corn syrup squirted on the side with some chopped up rip-off pickle as a seventy-five cent extra addition. So Louis got fired after too many people complained for his lack of quick services.

Instead of asking questions – because Marcel never seems to have an answer or refuses to answer altogether – they cart the items out to the car and stack them in the trunk before driving back to the campus. Louis is in charge of the bedspread once again and struggles to carry it up the three flights of stairs. Marcel unlocks the door through his bag-clad arms and lets Liam and Niall through the door. When Louis goes to scoot sideways through the doorframe, he trips on the small metal frame and yelps as he falls forward. He expects to land on the floor but Marcel catches him with one arm, holding him firm yet gently. Louis lets out a breath and they stare at each other for a moment before Marcel helps him stand upright. Louis clears his throat and hides his face behind the bedspread.

“Thanks.” He mutters. He doesn’t wait for a reply and starts to head for the bedroom, but when he realizes he doesn’t know which one, he stops and glances at Marcel sheepishly. A hint of amusement glitters in Marcel’s pretty eyes and he shuts the door and leads the way. Louis follows after him petulantly.

They put all the bedding on and organize Marcel’s side of the room. Once they’re done, Liam and Niall bid their goodbyes, and Louis catches the look Niall gives him as he walks out the door, and then two are left standing awkwardly on opposite sides of the room. Louis clears his throat and rubs his hands together. He doesn’t want to leave but he doesn’t know what to say. There’s only one way to get out of this situation alive and dignified, and that’s to channel his inner man-hoe. It’s the only way he can get into Marcel’s pants is if he woos him over with his faux confidence and falsified amiable attitude

“So,” Louis draws out, biting his lower lip, “whatcha think?” He gestures to the whole room. The corners of Marcel’s lips twitch upward.

“I like it. You guys really didn’t have to help me. "

“It wasn’t a problem at all.” Louis says quickly. All the questions have escaped his brain so he’s starting to panic and he’s not doing too well at channeling his inner man-hoe. It’s probably because it doesn’t exist knowing his luck.

Deciding that spouting gibberish was better than silence, Louis blurts out the first words that come to mind. “So, um, I have to go, but if you need anything else, you can call me–or text, text is fine–wait, you don’t have my number. Uhh…” Louis searches the room frantically for a notepad and spots one on the desk set in the middle of the room. He leaps for it, tripping over the chair in the process, and grabs the first writing utensil he sees. He scribbles down his number, triple-checking it to make sure there are no mistakes and that it’s legible, then writes his name underneath with a little smiley face with x’s for eyes. He rips the paper off and swivels around to see Marcel only one step away. Louis jumps at the close proximity then thrusts the paper out.

Marcel’s eyes glitter with amusement – or pity, that’s most likely what it is; Louis is just making a fool out of himself – and slips the paper from Louis’ fingers. He looks it over once then trails his gaze up to Louis. Louis is nervously twiddling his fingers and letting his eyes roam anywhere but Marcel’s features.

“I’ll call you.” Marcel says, and with that confirmation, Louis bolts straight for the door. “W-Wait, Louis.”

Louis stops dead in the center of the doorframe. He slowly turns around hoping he doesn’t look too petrified but intrigued enough for Marcel to continue. Marcel wrings his wrists and looks anywhere but Louis’ eyes. “U-Um, thank you, you know, for helping me. You really didn’t have to.”

Louis smiles, more out of relief than anything, and feels his shoulders relax. What had he expected Marcel to say, _“I know your secret”?_ No, Louis is overreacting.

“It’s okay, honest.” Louis smiles, because he feels like he could jump seven feet in the air with all the endorphins pulsing through his body. It’s just the after effects of the weed, he tells himself. This has nothing to do with Marcel.

Before Marcel can stop him again, Louis darts out the door and practically trips down the three flights of stairs. He falls against the wall and breathes heavily. Okay, so he might like Marcel a little more than just friends, and he can just sit and pine over him at three AM under his Superman covers on a school night while eating Chips Ahoy and watching crappy reality TV shows. No one has to know.

If Louis were to describe Marcel, it would be a kicked puppy that’s just trying to find an owner to love after being abused his entire life. He has that look about him – speedy eyes, unconfident posture, lack of resources, terrible fashion; it’s obvious he’s been emotionally scarred. In what way Louis might never know, but he does know one thing, he’s not going to use Marcel for a simple one-night stand. He’s too delicate and fragile, and it may not appear like it at first, but Louis actually has a heart, so he’s not going to do it.

On Louis’ way back to the house he shoots a text to Liam saying, _U fuckin twat bag did that on purpose_ , then shoves his phone back in his pocket. While he walks, his mind wanders. Today was a complete bust, all he got out of it was learning that Marcel likes to use cash and hates eye contact. Not that it’s anything useful in the long run, though, and the most exciting thing about today was learning that Marcel loves Aztec patterns. That’s it.

He really doesn’t know how he’s going to pull off this plan because if he’s being dead honest he’s too good of a person. He has morals, unlike Niall and the other boys in the house, and sometimes wishes he didn’t. It would make his life so much easier here in the fraternity but he guesses he came that way. It seems like he wouldn’t feel as excluded and could get along easier with the other boys, but then again Louis has always been the black sheep of every group of friends he hangs out with. He sighs heavily, feeling the stress start to weigh on his shoulders. If he doesn’t go through with this plan he’s going to be stuck with the guilt forever, and that’s definitely something he doesn’t want.

Louis stops right in front of the house steps and feels anger boiling up inside of him. Where the hell is he going to find someone to fuck then dump?! It pisses him off that he’s too righteous of a person to actually go through with the plan no matter how much bribing and encouragement he gets. He hates himself.

Louis trudges through the door, his mind and inner soul heavy. The guilt is eating him alive, just like maggots on a dead body. He wishes instead he was the dead body and give the guilt to someone else because frankly it’s starting to drive him insane. No person on this earth should have to deal with so much guilt just about _not having sex_.

He barges through the door and after a delayed reaction Niall screeches and slams his laptop shut. There’s a look of pure terror on his face.

“Could’ve knocked!”

“It’s my room too, you idiot.” Louis hisses then shrugs his jacket off, opting to drop it to the floor instead of actually hanging it up. When he looks over at Niall, he has a shit-eating grin on his face, which definitely can’t be good. Either he’s watching the buildup to a massive orgy or he’s dying to tease Louis about something.

“Sooo,” Niall draws out, and Louis sighs and braces himself for the inevitable humiliation, “Marcel?”

That catches Louis off guard. “What about him?” No really, what about Marcel? He just thanked Louis for helping him get settled into his new college, that’s what friends do. They didn’t have sex within those extra four minutes and thirty-seven seconds Louis stayed (again, he wasn’t counting) so he doesn’t see where Niall is going with this.

“I know what you’re doing,” Niall says, and Louis is utterly confused because Niall never makes sense, “you’re _pretending_ to like Marcel! You want him to be your FP, that’s why you’re being so nice to him!”

Louis pauses, taking into account the two completely different perspectives that have been presented. There’s his own side, where he finds Marcel’s eyes fascinating and knows for a fact that even through those tacky, outdated, worn-down clothes he wears he still has a really nice figure, he resembles the mirror image of a lost puppy that needs social and physical guidance, and is just all around endearing and sweet and seems like the type of guy that takes time to open up. He’s delicate, fragile, and Louis feels relaxed around him. He reminds Louis of a cold autumn night with a cinnamon candle burning by the fireplace.

Then there’s Niall’s perspective, seeing Louis’ reaction towards Marcel as a façade, that Louis simply sees Marcel as an innocent object to be used to get rid of his guilt he brought upon himself in the first place. Louis doesn’t blame Niall at all for perceiving it that way, that’s how he was trying to portray it to look like in the first place but only to protect his social reputation. Louis can’t give away the fact that he sees Marcel in a light that looks past his inability to socially blend in and not trip over his own feet.

Of course, Louis has already gone through the steps in his head; Marcel would be easy as hell to manipulate. He’s a new student, no one knows him, he’s socially awkward, he willingly takes friends as they come, he’s not confident in anyway whatsoever, and he wouldn’t survive for one day in the social ladder at this school without his, Niall, and Liam’s help. It would be easy for Louis to fuck Marcel then drive him out of the school with blackmail. It’s genius but ridiculously inconsiderate, Louis feels like if he did that he would hate himself even more if he did that.

So, Louis is now at a crossroads, deciding whether to lie again and potentially dig his guilt hole even further than a casket, or tell the truth. But – Louis being Louis – he’s a coward, so therefore goes with the latter.

“Damn, you got me.” He grins. “And you think I’m bad at lying.”

Niall claps his hands together. “Well shit! You’re one step ahead of me, Tommo! I think this plan deserves a drink.”

Louis forces a laugh but he feels his brain wrenching together like a wet rag being squeezed dry. He’s lying to cover up the original lie he was exposed for, is this what they call the snowball effect? Is he turning into a pathological liar? He’s not too keen on using Marcel in that way, but then again, they literally only met three days ago so who is Marcel to Louis? No one, or at least that’s what he’s supposed to be; yet Louis can’t seem to convince himself that that’s the case.

“Damn, who would’ve thought you’d go after a guy.” Niall says. Louis feels like he’s treading on thin ice so keeps his expression neutral. He’s not sure whether Niall is impressed, disgusted, or all the above, so he’s not sure how to react. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Okay.” Louis says carefully, stripping to just his boxers. He climbs in his bed and Niall flips on his stomach. He looks like he’s formulating a plan of mass destruction in his brain.

“I bet you can get in his pants in under a month.” He smirks. Louis raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? You wanna bet?”

Niall’s smirk grows wider. “Hell yeah.”

Louis props himself up on one elbow. “How much?”

Niall purses his lips together, twisting his fingers around each other in deep thought. “I’ll get Jasper to give you free weed for a whole month.”

Louis’ mouth drops incredulously. “I’m the one who smokes and I can’t even do that. You’d never be able to convince him.”

Niall shrugs. “If not, I’ll pay for two of your classes next year. How does that sound?”

Louis laughs and throws a pillow at Niall. “You can’t even afford your own tuition!”

“Fine! Free booze, free access to clubs any day of the week for a month.”

Louis gives him a look. “I seriously doubt you have that much power.”

Niall holds a hand to his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Louis. Now what about my end of the bet? What do I get if you don’t get in his pants?”

Louis sits up all the way. “Who said I even agreed to my prize?”

Niall dismisses him with a wave. “If you want something different we can change it later. Now my turn.”

Louis snorts. “Fine. Um,” He racks his brain for the perfect thing. Maybe if it’s good enough Niall will purposefully want him to lose the bet – that would be the best outcome. “I’ll buy all your food for a month.”

Niall narrows his eyes. Louis bites his lip and spits out the first words that come to mind. “And make your bed. And do all your homework.”

Niall’s scowl turns into a lighthearted grin. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He outstretches his hand and Louis laughs as he strains to grasp it. They firmly shake hands and then it finally settles into Louis’ mind what he just did. Good hell, he doesn’t want to do Niall’s homework. Scientific study of the human anatomy? No thanks. The only problem about buying Niall food is that he’s like a fucking vacuum and will easily eat five servings in one meal. Louis’ wallet will be run dry and not for a good purpose either.

Louis sighs. He really wants to win this bet now. Free weed, booze, no club fees, and maybe part of his tuition getting paid? He knows in the big picture none of that would end up happening, but it’s nice to imagine it would because his tuition is something that’s been haunting him ever since he moved out. And to think, all of this started with Louis telling a little white lie about having sex to stay in a fraternity he never wanted to join in the first place.

He scoffs. How ironic.

**XxX**


	2. Part 2

**XxX**

_"You coming to the party?" He cringes as the voice blares through the phone._

_"I don't know, man, these application deadlines are soon and I–"_

_"Don't be a little bitch! Scared of the alcohol?"_

_He scowls. "No, I'm scared that the second I step through that door I'm going to be thrown right back out."_

_"She doesn't hate you that much. Now come outside, I'm in your driveway."_

_He rolls his eyes. It doesn't look like he has much of a choice, so he casts his homework to the side and slips on a pair of shoes along with a jacket. He kisses his mother on the cheek before heading out the door, and the car horn honks loudly as he rounds the front of the car. When he opens the door, all the boys break out into a mocking laughter. He simply smiles and shuts the door._

**XxX**

_January 6th_

When Louis walks downstairs the next morning, the entire perimeter of the first floor goes dead silent. Not unusual for a Monday morning before classes, but the looks the boys are giving him is what makes it _not_ usual. Louis stops at the bottom of the steps, keeping a cautious hand on the wooden railing in case he has to flee back up the stairs.

"What? Did something happen?" He asks, and Jasper strolls over and slings an arm around Louis' shoulders, sighing.

"Oh our dearest Tommo, we should have never underestimated you." He says, and Louis has a feeling he's going to be strangling Niall soon.

"Mind filling me in?" He asks as Jasper leads him to the kitchen table.

"You're going after the new kid, Marcel right?" A boy named Axel asks. "Niall told us you made a bet with him yesterday."

Well fuck him sideways, Niall is so dead. He better be thanking the heavens he's not in the room or Louis would've pounced and ripped all his bleached hair out. Louis lets out a laugh that hopefully no one notices is forced. "Yeah, figured I'd give the lad a taste of this school! It's the most warming welcome I could possibly give him."

All the boys break out into laugher.

"So why him?" Chris, another one of his frat mates, asks.

Louis wants to get defensive, wants to come out and tell the truth, claiming _I've never actually had sex but I lied just so Niall would shut up now I'm using Marcel to get rid of my guilty conscious which is making me more guilty,_ but can't find the willpower to. Thanks to Niall and his blabbermouth, all the boys in the house know now so he has to play along with it. He shrugs.

"Innocent, has no idea what the hell is going on, young, he's not too bad looking either." He smirks and goes into the kitchen and pulls out the box of Coco Pops from the pantry.

In the fraternity, there are certain ground rules for living together, and one of those is respecting other's claimed territory. A prime example for Louis is his Coco Pops; if anyone ever touches them he will throw all their belongings out the second story window into the flowerbeds then turn the sprinklers on. It's happened once before when Chad stole Niall's secret stash of food under his bed and ate it all. Niall was livid and it took him over a month to get over it. Niall's food was something no one ever messed with again.

"We wanna see him!" Garrett shouts, a boy in the house Louis finds immensely annoying. His brown hair is spiked up today, eyes shining as if he's somewhat significant in this life, and sitting across the table eating ice cream for breakfast at seven AM. Play-doh ice cream, too, Louis couldn't be more disgusted.

"Oh, I'll be sure to bring him here. When the night comes I'll block out a few hours so you guys know when to leave." He says smugly, not believing a single word he's saying.

Getting the whole fraternity vacant for even an hour? That's nearly impossible, even when school is in session or they're at a party. There's _always_ someone in the house, so if he does happen to bring Marcel over he'll alert Niall beforehand to get the boys out pronto. That way Louis can pretend they had sex then he can blackmail Marcel into leaving the next morning. He already has it planned out, it came to him in a vision while he was sleeping.

"What does he look like?" Drew asks, and he's one of the boys Louis can actually stand. He's very thoughtful, academically driven, the third oldest in a family of five and has a girlfriend back home in North Carolina. Louis doesn't know the point of having a girlfriend if he's in a fraternity where the whole point is to get smashed then have sex but whatever floats his boat. Who is Louis to judge Drew's life?

Louis tsks. "You'll just have to see when I bring him over." _Which will be never._ "He's quite cute." _And for my eyes only, thank you._

"So why him? I thought you liked girls?" Oliver asks from the couch. On occasion, Louis will gets all of the boys' names mixed up and this just so happens to be one of those times. And he's been here for almost three years, for fucks sake.

"I'm not one to restrict myself to just one gender." He says, because he really has no fucking clue why, it was just the first excuse that came to his head. Girls never worked out for him so he might as well try something different. That's the definition of insanity after all; doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

It just kind of happened, Louis has come to the conclusion of, because Marcel actually isn't half bad and Louis has always wanted to touch another dick besides his own.

"Well good for you! You'll have to tell me how it goes." Seth says. He's always been one of the more questionable boys in the house; no one ever really knows his sexual orientation or where his loyalties lie. Everyone just assumes he's straight, but it's never been confirmed. He's like Switzerland, to put it in simple terms.

There was one time Seth almost walked in on Jasper, Chad, and Louis smoking up a storm in the science hall bathroom but luckily one of his girl toys walked passed and he was effectively distracted long enough for the three to jump out the window into the shrubs. They tried to keep smoking in the condensed space but Louis' sparked his lighter a few too many times and caught the bush on fire. The flames left a dark burn mark on the side of the wall and it's still there to this day. That was a year and a half ago, and still no one knows what actually happened, so the fire department pegged it on the suns rays being too hot and the plant was too dry therefore it caught on fire. That is one story Louis, Jasper, and Chad will forever take to the grave. They knew the story was absolute bullshit and had laughed the entire time running back to the fraternity.

Since then, though, the burned science wall has become an iconic place to meet up when going to school events, so they all figured they did the school a favor.

"I will." Louis says, and sits down with a bowl of perfectly tasting Coco Pops. If he thinks about it, his life really is a mess; he's a college boy stuck in a fuckboy fraternity he didn't even want to join and made a bet to get into an innocent boys pants just to get rid of his own guilt and he's sitting at the kitchen table at seven AM eating Coco Pops in his Superman pajamas talking about it with the other boys in the house after spending the entire weekend being hung-over and trying not to feel more guilt for this bet.

Louis wonders when his life started going downhill so quickly.

Nick suddenly walks in the room, fuming for some reason Louis could care less about, and then slams his hands down on the table and glares at Louis.

"You're doing _what?"_

All the boys' attentions are on the two and Louis wants to use a magic concoction to turn invisible. He acts innocent and takes a spoonful of his cereal. "Which thing?"

"Don't act stupid." Nick seethes, and Louis wants to dump his bowl of cereal on Nick's head but decides against the idea because then he'd be wasting such a beautiful creation on a piece of living trash. "You have a bet to get into some guys pants?"

"Jealous it's not you?" Louis takes another bite and thinks how the tea drinking meme he saw on the Internet the other day is applicable to this situation.

Nick rolls his eyes. "You wish, Tomlinson, just know that you could possible ruin the reputation of our fraternity if anyone finds out."

Louis pauses then sets his spoon down gently. He'll have to remember to go over to Liam's later and threaten him with spoons; it's been too long since he's fully utilized his uncanny fear of the utensil against him. "'The reputation of the house'? I didn't know we had a reputation for discriminating against homosexual activity."

Nick's gaze is hard and Louis can hear the boys quietly gasping and saying, "burn". He doesn't pay attention, though, because he can't tell if Nick is immensely jealous or insanely pissed, probably a bit of both but he could also really just be that dimwitted and homophobic. All the boys are watching the two stare each other down. It's always a riot when Nick and Louis get on each other's cases; one simple argument can last for weeks.

When Nick doesn't respond, Louis continues to eat, and Nick slowly slips into the chair diagonal from Louis. He's not doing anything, just fiddling with some papers and occasionally looking at his reflection in the napkin holder. Louis finishes his breakfast and heads back upstairs, getting a few congratulatory pats on the back for "being a man" and "doing something different" and "breaking the norm".

Surprisingly, everyone's response wasn't as dramatic and life-or-death as Louis thought it would be. They were probably more apprehensive anything, simply by the fact that all they ever hear and talk about in the fraternity is vaginas, which even Louis can admit it gets old after a while. So the fact that Louis was breaking their usual routine was new and exciting.

First he infiltrated a fraternity then broke it down by un-closeting all the boys in hiding, then demeaned Nick's position as the leader and is now stealing the power from right under his nose.

Louis smirks and has a little hop to his step as he carouses to his class.

**XxX**

"You _what?"_

It's after classes are over that Louis is at Liam's dorm sitting on the couch with a bag of barbecue flavored Lays, Xbox controller in hand, handles greasy from his salty fingers, game paused, and Louis has been explaining the past events to Liam for the past hour. He holds up his hands defensively and eats another chip. "I didn't have a choice, I already said that!"

Liam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay, maybe telling Liam about the bet was a bad idea, but he's the only one who truly understands how Louis feels. Louis would've called Zayn a long time ago to rant but since they aren't currently on the best terms he had to resort to the next best form of therapy.

"Of course you had a choice, Louis." Liam says. "You're just trying to make excuses to validate your bad choices."

"Am not." Louis mutters. "I am fully aware of what I'm doing. Once I get this over with I'll be able to move on and continue living in the fraternity like nothing was ever wrong. Life will be grand."

"And Marcel will be hurt," Liam says, and Louis already knows that but of course Liam has to go and actually say it out loud.

"Well when you put it that way it sounds mean."

"That's because it is."

Louis scoffs. "Whatever. I'm going for a run. You're invited."

Liam raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, 'cause now I'm uninviting you." Louis giggles maniacally and flees as Liam throws a couch pillow at him. Pillows must be the running gag of his pitiful college life.

Right as Louis trips out of the door, he runs into someone a body, gasping as he's knocked back a few steps. The person quickly grabs his arm to keep him from falling over and Louis opens his eyes. Marcel.

"You alright?" Marcel asks, eyes swirling with concern. He's dressed in his normal attire so that's no surprise, what's surprising is how exhausted he looks, like he's been up all night crying or just staring at the demons on his ceiling. Louis wants to stop looking so he pulls his wrist out of Marcel's grip a bit too roughly and plays it off coolly by fixing his hair.

"Just great, bit of a step there." He says mentally cursing Liam's door. Of course he runs into Marcel, it's only fate that he was placed in the room right next to Liam's.

His brain is suddenly combusting into a mass of confusing voices and each one is telling him different things. Should he walk away? Say something else? Make small talk? Ask Marcel if he wants to fuck? Does Louis even _want_ to go through with this plan? Should he take Marcel out to dinner first? Maybe ice cream? If Louis could get a lobotomy right here in front of Liam's door he would; he wants to forget all the embarrassing things he knows he'll inevitably say sometime in the near future and he's already cursing himself.

Fortunately for Louis, Marcel smiles. "Yeah, I've tripped a few times too." There's a long, awkward pause after that until Marcel asks, "Um, wh-what are you doing right now?"

Is this an invitation to take Louis back to his bedroom? It's hardly after noon but Louis supposes he could roll with it. Did he remember to shower last night? Is he shaved? He probably smells like the pitiful aroma of barbecue Lays and desperation. What was Nick bitching about this morning again and did it even matter? Louis' subconscious is yelling at him so loudly he hardly remembers what Marcel had said.

 _Damnit, Tomlinson,_ Louis thinks, _you are so not made for this lifestyle._ He has to play it cool, suave, be enticing; reel Marcel in then all at once flip him on his front and take him wherever they are, with or without condoms and lube. Louis blinks, clearing his throat and fixing his posture. He needs to have the authority in this 'relationship'; Marcel has to trust him enough to want to get naked. In order to get the upper hand, Louis has to act like he knows what he's doing.

He wishes he were drunk right now – he wouldn't care if he makes a fool of himself.

On the other hand, Louis is relieved that Marcel is actually communicating like a normal human being and keeping better eye contact than when they first met. He must have crowd anxiety. Or people-phobia. "Just heading back to the house to go on a run." Words keep spilling from Louis' mouth before he can stop them. "Do you want to come with?"

Marcel is thrown back into his habit of wrist wringing and "um's" before he actually gives a legible sentence. "Are you sure?"

 _Fuck no._ "Yeah, I mean, it's more fun that way, isn't it?" _No. It's really not._

"O-Oh, um, yeah, I'll just need to change." He says, then opens his dorm with a key then walks in.

Louis steps in through the door way with his hands behind his back, inconspicuously looking for any clues that will help him learn more about Marcel. He's truly an enigma and it's only been a full day and a half since they met. Louis rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, silently screaming to the blank walls and furniture to help him get through this alive.

Marcel eventually rounds the corner of the hall sporting a long sleeve athletic top, gym shorts, and regular tennis shoes. He's carrying a plastic water bottle in hand that's so badly crumpled it looks like it's been run over by a city bus then thrown in a dumpster then recycled. Louis internally cringes but smiles outwardly.

"Ready?" He asks.

Marcel nods and they head down the three flights of stairs and Louis does his best not to trip on his own feet. He's so nervous it's ridiculous; it must be Marcel's naturally quiet nature that's making him uneasy. Louis tries to occupy his mind by formulating the most simple but effective way to get into Marcel's pants – does he act coy and seductive or sweet and kind? Smoldering temptress or bright and bubbly? The stark difference between the two will determine the outcome of their fuck, that is, if Louis actually goes through with the plan.

Going the seductive route would be much easier and less emotionally connecting than the ladder, but being bubbly takes more skillful acting and energy. Either way, Louis is going to have to put forth some sort of effort. For now, he'll start out with what works then slowly ease Marcel into it. Someone as vulnerable and innocent as him clearly has no idea about the intentions of someone like Louis.

They get to the house and Louis instructs Marcel to stay put on the stone steps, which he does and Louis finds that surprisingly satisfying. Nodding in approval, Louis quickly runs to his room and throws on his gym clothes. He makes sure his clothes match before running downstairs and grabbing his fancy blue water bottle from the fridge. As he goes out the front door, he pushes past the boys and ignores the sixteen pairs of nosy eyes peeking through the blinds. Louis flips them all off as he pads down the steps, and he can hear them cheering through the walls yelling, _"get some!"._ He hates them all.

Once they get away from the house, they start jogging at a light pace. A few blocks down and Marcel is still quiet and frankly it's rather unnerving. Louis can't ever tell what he's thinking, is he upset? Is he bored? Does he want to go back? Is he tired? He doesn't know what the hell to assume because he doesn't even know Marcel. He lets out a sigh and stops in his tracks to act like he's stretching.

"You work out often?" Louis asks, his legs spread apart as his upper body is bent to the right. Marcel timidly joins him in stretching.

"I used to."

Louis stands up straight and raises an eyebrow. "Why not anymore?"

He shrugs and Louis knows that's the only response he's getting from Marcel on the topic. Marcel is still so skittish. He only talks about certain things and hardly gives more than one-word answers. He seemed to be just fine earlier, so what changed?

They're settled by a pond near a park a while later, letting their heart rates calm and teasing ducks when they come begging for food then shooing them away. There's a light breeze and the sun has finally started to dip in the sky past the trees and skyscrapers. Marcel seems more relaxed which is better than having anxiety pouring out of every orifice. Louis knows this is going to be a long process but one step forward is better than nothing.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Louis takes a long drink from his water bottle.

"It's nice out, isn't it?" He asks. Small talk.

Marcel nods and looks to the sky. He seems deep in thought and Louis can only pull out his one-liner question that has gotten him in trouble more times in his life than he can count.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

It can't hurt. Marcel already isn't talking and Louis honestly has nothing to lose this early in the relationship. He could easily drop Marcel and never see him the rest of the school year if that's what he wanted, he knows all the tips and tricks of avoiding people. He's spent a lifetime doing it. Marcel shrugs.

"Nothing."

Louis wants to throw him in the pond and leave his drowned carcass for the ducks to feed on. He smiles encouragingly. "Oh come on, nothing? There has to be something." He urges.

Never in Louis' entire life has he had to stoop to such desperate measures. Why can't Marcel just be all over his dick already and get it over with? The anticipation is killing him.

Marcel scratches the back of his neck. "Um, well, thanks," he glances at Louis then back to the pond, "for inviting me to come with you...you're really my only friend right now. You, Liam, and Niall."

If the circumstances were different, Louis would feel flattered, metaphorically and literally heart-warmed, but since that isn't the case he forces himself to find it annoying. "Really? You seem like a great guy, I'm sure once you get into a routine you'll make plenty of friends."

Marcel scrunches his eyebrows and brings his knees up to his chest. "Thanks."

That's all he says and they're back to square one. Okay, maybe Louis was lying when he said they took a step forward. It was more like one step forward twenty-thousand steps back, they would never catch up to each other unless Marcel gave him a little more. Louis racked his brain for another topic until it came to him.

"You said you were doing mycology?" At least Louis hopes that's what it was or he'd just be embarrassing himself.

Louis sees the way Marcel's ears perk at the subject. His posture straightens and his body turns towards Louis. Yes, this is good. "Y-Yeah..."

"Tell me about it." Louis says, turning to face Marcel. "I'm in a completely different study than you are so I know nothing about it." It's not a total lie, but then again, Louis hasn't been studying anything at all for two and a half years.

"Um, okay." Marcel looks to the ground to gather his thoughts. Maybe he doesn't want to nerd out so much that Louis gets bored, but whatever the case Louis is just glad to hear Marcel talk. His voice is so different and unique; like angels gently singing Christmas carols on a snowy night with hot chocolate in front of a fire with little marshmallows floating on top. Louis is interested in what Marcel has to say, but he has to act like he isn't to get the full effect of the plan, then pretend like he's interested. It's confusing but it makes sense in Louis' brain.

Marcel rambles on about fungi and their different properties, giving two examples of how one mushroom can be used as a side dish while the other could kill a human. He goes into some related phytopathology and by then Louis is completely lost. He really starts to wonder if Marcel came from Alice and Wonderland or even the planet Mushroom Kingdom and ran wild with red and green plumbers before he was dropped head-first into the frozen food aisle of Albertsons.

When Marcel starts his next sentence, there's a fluctuation of his pitch, it being rather deep and husky as opposed to his high-toned voice, and it catches Louis off guard. He snaps his head towards Marcel who has already gone dead silent. He clears his throat in attempt to cover it up.

"U-Uh, sorry, I'm rambling. I have to go now."

His normal voice is back. High pitch, slight lisp, typical accent, shaky undertone. Louis doesn't know what to think. Marcel adjusts his glasses and stands up, brushing himself off and quickly walks in the other direction. Louis turns to watch him leave.

Honestly, He's so weird, why does Louis even find him somewhat attractive?

Louis scoffs. Maybe this plan will make him hate Marcel if he's always going to be this annoyingly skittish. Louis wouldn't feel emotionally attached so it would be a lot easier that way.

Louis makes his way back to the house slightly downtrodden. He has a few things on his plate that are bothering him but the most prominent one besides Marcel is Zayn. They haven't talked for days, and honestly Louis can't stand the fact. Sure, they've gone weeks without calling, but back then they were on good terms then and this time they aren't. He knows they're both too stubborn to call each other first, but fuck that, so he pulls out his phone and stops in the middle of the sidewalk and questions himself for five minutes until he hits the call button.

Each ring is like a downpour of anxiety, Louis doesn't know if it's going to go straight to voicemail or Zayn is going to answer and yell at him then completely cut off their friendship for eternity.

Okay, maybe Louis is being a bit dramatic but he can't handle the thought of not being friends with Zayn ever again. They've known each other since elementary, after all, he would be heartbroken. When he hears a click on the other line, Louis' heart is in his throat.

_"Hello?"_

Louis swears he's never felt so much relief wash over him at once. Zayn doesn't sound angry, just tired and distracted. "Hi, Zayn."

_"Hey, Lou."_

He's unusually quiet, probably waiting for Louis to say something first. Louis fiddles with the hem of his muscle tank. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops when he hears Zayn starting to talk at the same time. They both laugh, and Zayn tells Louis to go first.

"I just wanna say sorry, for, you know, telling you to fuck yourself."

 _"Well I did,"_ Zayn says smugly, _"and pretty well too. I had you in mind."_

Louis lets out a gasp. "Zayn!"

He laughs. _"I'm kidding! But I'm sorry too, for telling you to go to hell. I mean I'm probably going with you so at least you won't be lonely."_

Louis grins. He missed this. Their bickering and stupid innuendos and not having to act like someone he's not. He can be real with Zayn, and that's one of the main reasons he wishes Zayn had stayed back and come to the same college with him; Louis would still have his partner in the flesh and best friend to use his shoulder to cry on. It's not that Louis doesn't like Niall, he's just different from Zayn. He doesn't understand things on the same deep emotional and intellectual level Zayn does. Louis could be rambling about something and Zayn could say one sentence that cured a months worth of Louis' anxiety in one second. He's like a therapist and miracle-worker all in one.

Louis takes off his shoes and steps onto the grass, his feet padding softly against the chilly ground. He sits down against a tree and absentmindedly picks at the grass.

_"So what's up? I know you didn't call me just to apologize, you're way too stubborn for that."_

Louis scoffs. "What if I did? I could just miss you."

 _"You're not that sentimental."_ Zayn says. _"Now spill."_

"Fine," Louis laughs, "I met someone."

Zayn goes silent on the other end and Louis can only assume he has a look that clearly says "what the fuck". Before he can start questioning, Louis continues. "But it's not what you think, I didn't actually " _meet meet"_ someone, it's for the plan."

 _"Oh,"_ Zayn says blandly, _"you mean the plan to fuck someone so you can stay in the fraternity?"_

"Yes, the plan you hoped would flop."

_"Yeah, okay."_

" _So,"_ Louis trades his phone to his other hand and starts picking at the grass on the other side of him, "There's this guy named Marcel. He's super socially awkward and can't go one sentence without stuttering. His dorm is coincidentally right next to Liam's so it's super convenient for me to "accidentally" run into him all the time. Judging by how he talks and dresses he's never fucked before so this'll be a new one for him."

_"Let me guess, Niall also has a part in this."_

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Louis asks.

 _"No offense Louis but I'm not an idiot. You're too easily influenced by Niall whether you recognize it or not."_ Zayn says. _"Anyway, continue."_

Louis brushes off his comment. "Yeah, so anyway, he's into mycology, literally the most random subject ever but it fits him. I met him in the frozen section of Albertsons then found out the next day he's actually enrolled in my school too. Talk about coincidence."

_"Uh-huh."_

"Don't sound so bored," Louis chides, ripping out a handful of grass. "and I mean I actually kinda like him even if he's way too awkward for his own good. His eyes are this amazing color though, they're like a mix of green and gray and they're just so...deep. Even you wouldn't be able to paint them. He hardly ever looks at me though so it's kind of hard to pin the exact color of them. But anyway, the three of us gave him a tour around the school and Niall thought I was pretending to like him then came up with the bet that I could get in his pants in less than a month."

Louis flinches when he hears a loud clatter on the other end. It sounded like Zayn dropped his utensils on the floor. _"Louis, what?"_

"That's the bet Niall made with me?" He repeats slowly.

_"Okay, Louis, first of all, I don't want to start another argument, but you're an idiot for doing that. If you like him why would you want to ruin him like that? Niall is a bigger idiot for egging you on. What did Liam say?"_

"He's against it."

_"Okay, then listen to me and Liam. So far it's two against one."_

"But Zayn," He whines. "I have to do this or I run the risk of everyone finding out I've never had sex before. And all the guys in the house know about Marcel so I _have_ to now."

 _"God, what don't you understand about you don't have to do anything you don't want to do?"_ Zayn lets out an exasperated sigh. _"I swear sometimes I should've never left you there. You're ruining your life, I hope you know that."_

"Love you too." Louis deadpans.

 _"And let me guess,"_ Zayn turns on the water and sets his dish in the sink, " _Niall told everyone."_

"Yup."

_"So basically everyone knows about this bet except Marcel?"_

"Right again!"

 _"Ugh,"_ Zayn moans. _"Louis, you know you're better than that. You're not like all the other guys in that fraternity! You're just following the crowd, what happened to the Louis Tomlinson in high school who ran for student body officer, won, then gave it up just because he decided he didn't want to be the popular one anymore? What happened to the Louis Tomlinson who got suspended for punching a guy because he was harassing a girl? What happened to the Louis Tomlinson who chose to stay my friend over all the jocks even when they were making fun of my art?"_

There's a long pause, and after a while, Zayn sighs. _"Just think about it, please. Marcel sounds like a nice guy whose intentions are just to get an education in this economically deprived country. You shouldn't ruin that for him. Did you say where he's from?"_

"No idea," Louis says, thinking back to all the curt conversations he's had with Marcel. A gust of wind rushes past him and he squints his eyes. "Every time someone asks he just says back west."

_"Huh. Did he say what state?"_

"Nope."

There's a long pause on the end and Louis has to check to make sure Zayn didn't hang up on him. He hasn't, and Louis puts the phone back to his ear hearing the distant static until Zayn speaks. _"Well, looks like you have some work to do."_

A grin blooms on Louis' face. He knows Zayn doesn't agree with ruining Marcel's self esteem and confidence, but whatever Louis does Zayn always supports, whether he likes it or not.

"You're the best."

 _"Shut up."_ Zayn says, but his tone is lighthearted. _"Keep me updated. I wanna know how this all goes down in the end and if you end up running him out of town."_

"Will do." Louis says and he hangs up. 

He sighs in content. He feels so much better now knowing that Zayn isn't smoking weed with a grudge. That's the worst kind of Zayn to be around.

**XxX**

****When Louis gets back from the run, the boys question him relentlessly until he pushes everyone out of the bathroom and locks the door, turning on the faucet. Just for a little bit, he wants to think about Marcel out of context with the plan just because he can. Marcel is sweet, Louis honestly really likes him. He really just seems like a lost soul who had a little too much neglect growing up, but that's nothing Louis can't fix. He can show Marcel all the love neither of them got as children and hug him so tightly that all his broken pieces are mended back together. Louis finds himself smiling then freezes, immediately pursing his lips in a frown.

No, he can't like Marcel. If he does it'll ruin the whole thing. He has to convince himself Marcel is some evil warlock who acts innocent to lure in people before boiling them alive and serving them for dinner. There. Now it'll be easier for Louis to hate him. Marcel eats people for a hobby.

He scowls and furiously shakes the thought from his head as he steps in the shower. What the fuck is wrong with him? He can't deny that he likes Marcel and he can't pretend Marcel is a cannibalistic warlock either. Louis just has to take his feelings as they come then smash them into the dirt with a sledgehammer. That's the way he's always dealt with things. Pretending like they don't exist.

After half an hour Louis shuts off the shower and towels off, hardly having time to completely compose himself before he opens the door and is met with half of the boys squished in the hallway playing a game of go-fish.

Their card game halts immediately and they all turn their attention to him. Louis is unsure of what to do, his hand slowly lowers from his wet hair.

"What's going on here?" He asks carefully.

"We were waiting for you to finish." A boy named Gavin says. "You didn't tell us about Marcel when you got back so whenever you're ready." He flashes Louis a grin and Louis rolls his eyes. He steps over the legs of a blond named Blake onto the pile of cards in the middle and goes to his room. The boys crawl after him and Louis pulls a shirt from his closet, glaring at them as he unfolds it.

"Do you lot have nothing better to do?"

They all shake their head.

Louis sighs and gets dressed before going and sitting on the end of his bed. Why him? Why did Niall have to tell all of them? Why did Louis lie all those years ago to be cool when he could've saved himself so much trouble? The boys are waiting eagerly with their legs folded as Louis stares at them. He sighs again.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"What's his last name?" Axel asks.

"Cox."

A chorus of giggles rise up and Louis rolls his eyes. He should've figured that would be the general reaction. Liam and Niall are too nice to ever laugh. Marcel probably gets more shit for it than anyone, poor lad.

"What's he studying?"

"Mycology."

They all look stupefied. "What?"

"Fungus, mushrooms." Louis shrugs. "Stuff like that."

"He's a lot weirder than I thought." Garrett says, and it irks Louis but he can't say anything. He's supposed to hate Marcel and make fun of him. He doesn't want to, but he has to, so he'll address it then move on.

"Yeah, a little bit. Anymore questions? I want to eat."

Louis is bombarded with the usual questions of "where did he come from" and "where did you guys go running" and "is he even gay" and "why him" and "when are you bringing him to the house" and so on. Garrett and Blake even throw in their own incentive if Louis could get in his pants under a month they wouldn't bother him for weeks and refill the Coco Pops every time they ran out. That right there is enough motivation for Louis to really want to win this bet.

After Louis and some of the other boys are sat on the couch watching Garrett completely massacre Blake, Seth, and Gavin at Halo Reach, a feeling of boredom strikes him and he pulls out his phone.

**_To: Liam_ **

_Aye you up for a round of cod ? ;D_

The response takes a few minutes.

**_From: Liam_ **

_Marcel is over._

Wow Louis loves coincidences!

**_To: Liam_ **

_Well then !!!!!! Whats he there for ?_

**_From: Liam_ **

_Hes asking me about his classes and wondering if I can walk through the school with him one more time_

**_To: Liam_ **

_Well have no fear for the Great Tommo is here!! When does he wanna do that ?_

**_From: Liam_ **

_Louis im not pretending to be busy just so you can get in good with him_

**_To: Liam_ **

_Sure you are now what day? :)_

**_From: Liam_ **

_-____- tomorrow at noon. He wants to meet at the bottom stairwell_

**_To: Liam_ **

_I love youuuuu_

There's no response, and Louis smirks. Looks like he has another not-date with Marcel tomorrow. Louis can skip his government class; it won't really matter in the long run. He needs to get as much time with Marcel as possible for this to work. Even if he doesn't want to go through with this plan he's going to anyway just to save himself the insufferable insanity.

He scoffs and lets his phone drop to his lap, continuing to watch the television in front of him.

**XxX**

_January 7th_

Louis groans as his eyes slit open. There's a relentless buzzing to the right of him and he's going to stab it with his rock hard morning wood. The noise is something way too annoying to deal with on a Tuesday morning. He sits up and realizes it's his phone and changes his mind about the threat. He slams his hand on the nightstand, grabs his phone, and answers it peeved.

"What?" Louis' voice is laced with sleep. It sounds like metal scraping against gravel but he's is too tired to care.

 _"Louis, I was supposed to show Marcel around the school today."_ Liam says, and Louis is glad it's Liam or else someone would've definitely gotten slapped in the face by his morning wood that not so successfully failed to threaten against his cellular device.

Louis scrunched his eyes shut. "Your point?"

_"You wanted me to "be busy", remember? So you could take my place."_

"When the fuck–" Louis starts to say then stops, all the memories of last night flashing through his mind like a floodgate had been opened. Him and Liam played Call of Duty. He tripped into Marcel. They went on a run. Louis made up with Zayn. Liam agreed to let Louis show Marcel around the school. _Right._

"Ohhh," He says sheepishly, unplugging his phone and rolling over in bed, "yeah. What time was I supposed to be there?"

 _"In ten minutes."_ Liam says, and the words don't register in Louis' brain immediately until his eyes snap open and he flings up in bed.

"Bloody hell Liam why didn't you call me sooner?" He exclaims, stumbling out of bed to his closet.

Shit, what should he wear? Stripes, v-neck, polo, nothing? He probably smells like pizza and guilt so he needs to shower. He can do it in thirty seconds, right? No music, no hair washing, no self-foreplay of his future sex partner, this is a strict body rinse then get out. Okay, maybe he'll take a few extra seconds to jack off but it's the morning so he can compromise. Besides, it'll give Marcel a taste of the real mysterious Louis who shows up late with a piece of toast in his mouth just like in a Japanese anime when the protagonist is late for their first day of school.

For fucks sake he has _got_ to gather his thoughts before he goes out in public.

 _"I actually wasn't going to call you,"_ Liam admits, _"but then I thought, it's Louis, he's probably forgotten. So I called."_

"Well it's a good fucking thing you did," Louis gives up on picking an outfit. "I'll come over later." He hangs up and dashes to the bathroom. It's locked. Out of all the times Louis hadn't needed the bathroom it's been free, but the one time he needs it it's occupied. Just great.

He knocks on it loudly. "Hello?"

"What?" It's Garrett, fucking Garrett, the one who spends way too much time on his hair and sits on way too tall of a pedestal to even dream of letting him in. Louis wants to bash his head into the wall.

"Garrett, I need to shower, like, now." He says.

"Why? You already slept through your classes." He asks accusingly. There's no one that interrupts his scheduled hair-doing in the morning but there comes a time when all rules must be broken.

Louis debates between lying, but he has nothing to lose, so he tells the truth. "I'm meeting up with Marcel in ten minutes."

There's a silence on the other side before the door is unlocked and then opens slowly. Garrett looks somewhat bashful and eager – a side Louis has never seen before and it must be his pride trying to tell him he's not excited to see the end result of the bet but he totally is – and Louis is totally going to use this against him later. He's going to be a fucking legend in the house for the next century; no one has _ever_ gotten Garrett to open the door while he's doing his hair. Louis tries to calm his ego before it starts gushing out of every orifice.

"Fine. You can shower, but I'm still doing my hair!" Garrett says petulantly.

Louis wants to hug him but doesn't because it's Garrett and he probably has an STD.

"Thanks man," He pats him on the arm and promptly strips – much to Garrett's chagrin – and hops in the cold shower. He has no time to wait for the water to turn warm because he has a date with destiny. Except not a date with Mini Louis and his hand, that'll have to be saved for later. There's no way he'd be able to wank with Garrett less than five feet away from him, he still has some dignity left in his pitiful life.

He does a quick rinse and hops out; making Garrett squeal at the sight of Louis' nude body and hides his eyes, resulting in him getting hair product all over his face. Louis conceals his maniacal laughter because he has so much blackmail on him now and dashes back to his room in just a towel, already causing a commotion from the other boys who are still home. They peek their heads in the room and Niall lifts his head from his pillow.

"Wazz goin' on?" He asks, still half asleep. Niall must not have classes today, judging by the way he looks like he's just risen from his casket.

Louis drops his towel and slips on a pair of briefs and begins to scan his closet. What should he wear? He had been too busy trying to not think that Garrett was on the other side of the curtain and that he was going to see Marcel in less than ten minutes. His head was spinning. Should he wear shorts or jeans? Is it even hot outside? He glances out the window. It looks normal. Jeans it is.

"Louis?" Niall says again, this time more awake.

"Meeting up with Marcel. I don't know what to wear." He says. The boys who have their heads in the doorway laugh.

"You sound like a teenage girl, Louis." Blake comments.

"How did you get Garrett to open the door?" Axel asks.

"He forced me too!" Garrett shouts from the bathroom. They all look at the door then back at Louis. He has a smug grin on his face.

Louis ends up going with a light blue t-shirt and white pants. That's not too effeminate is it? He shouldn't really care. This is Marcel he's talking about; he's the epitome of last years washed out spring fashion line. Louis scoffs and shimmies into the pants then promptly throws on the shirt.

Flipping his hair and running his hands through it, Louis grabs his phone and dashes past all the boys downstairs. They follow him closely and Louis has no patience to wait for a piece of toast so instead grabs a frozen waffle from the freezer. Jasper and Chad give him a knowing look from the kitchen table and Louis rolls his eyes but is still smiling. He grabs his shoes and trips out the door, one shoe slipped on one foot and half a sock on the other.

Nick walks past right as all the boys are flocking to the window, watching Louis stumble to tie his shoes and jog at the same time with a frozen waffle hanging out of his mouth.

"What's going on?" Nick asks. The boys turn around to look at them then look at each other awkwardly.

"Uh, there was a hot girl." Chris says. They all calmly dissipate throughout the house and Nick looks to Jasper and Chad at the table. They simply shrug. Nick huffs and walks upstairs.

Louis has finally tied his laces and is doing his best not to break out into a run. He doesn't want to be early but he doesn't want to be too late to make Marcel worry. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he stops to read it mid-chew.

**_From: Niall_ **

_Have fun with marcel ::DDDDD_

Louis rolls his eyes.

**_To: Niall_ **

_Yes you can have some coco pops_

The response was instantaneous.

**_From: Niall_ **

_I LOEV YOU <3433_

Louis chuckles. He's surprisingly in a good mood, just hopefully he doesn't regret being nice. And this good mood has nothing to do with Marcel. Not at all.

Checking the clock, Louis sees he still has two minutes to get to the stairwell so he slaps his cheeks to psyche himself out of being excited. He's supposed to be acting like he's acting he likes Marcel. The fact that he actually _does_ like Marcel makes things a bit less difficult except for the fact that he's not supposed to feel attached.

Louis forces his expression to go stoic. _Think smoldering, sexy, I want to get in your pants,_ Louis thinks, _I am hot. I am seduction._

His smolder withers like a fire in dirt when he sees Marcel leaned against a pillar looking at the floor all...Marcel-like. Except not really like Marcel either. He has on black pants and finally isn't wearing that horrendous spin off of a 70's Napoleon Dynamite sweater vest. His shirt is a collared pin stripe that has the top button undone and he has on his usual shoes. Louis can spot the shiny chain of a necklace underneath the collar and if Louis wasn't having heart palpitations he might be able to enjoy the newly transformed nerd right in front of him. He chucks his half eaten waffle in the grass because he can't even think about eating anymore. It's amazing what a simple wardrobe change can do to a person's looks.

Marcel looks up at the sound of Louis' footsteps and looks alarmed.

"Hey," Louis says, trying to calm his heart rate. Screw smoldering and sexy he can't even breathe properly. Marcel smiles nervously.

"Um, h-hi, have you seen Liam anywhere?"

"Actually," Louis says, and then realizes he hasn't come up with a proper excuse yet, not that he was sure he needed one in the first place. Liam got food poisoning? He woke up with projectile vomiting? Louis puts his hands behind his back and plays with his fingers nervously. "he's not feeling well. It must've been something he ate. He told me to come meet you instead."

"O-Oh," Marcel says, and Louis can't help but feel like there's a hint of disappointment in his tone. He pushes it away and forces his inner nonexistent man-hoe to awaken. It's the persona he uses at clubs when he wants to get a good lap dance or free drinks at the bar. If it can exist and work there, it'll definitely work on Marcel.

"Yeah, so are we gonna stand here all day and watch the grass grow?" Louis raises an eyebrow and holds his arm out. Marcel eventually cracks a hesitant smile and falls in stride with him. The most unfortunate thing Louis learns in that moment is he has very short legs compared to Marcel. Every two steps of his are one and a half of Marcel's. Damn him and his long legs. Louis thought he was walking with a hot nerd, not Dong Lei.

"So Liam didn't tell me much, so where d'you want to go?" He asks. There's a slightly strained air between them but it must be because of Marcel's shit excuse to leave last night with no explanation. Louis wishes Marcel would stop because his inner hoe is just begging for attention and Marcel isn't giving it to him.

"Just where my classrooms are." Marcel pulls out a schedule from his back pocket and hands it to Louis. Louis reads over each one carefully, engraving the classes into his brain totally not for future reference. Oh look, he gets to show Marcel the burnt science wall and they'll pass the bathroom where Louis spilled cheap vodka down one of the urinals. Boy, did that bathroom smell bad after that.

Louis figures if he starts telling Marcel about himself, then he'll feel more inclined to open up. It'll make it much easier to lower the trust barrier then Louis can swoop in and take him. But first, casual conversation.

"So what's with the new get up?" Louis asks, genuinely curious because no one has the ability to completely transform into a new person over night, it's just not normal. Marcel looks at the ground sheepishly.

"I...these were the only other clothes I had." He says, his cheeks burning. "Like I said, I really don't have that much stuff."

"Why's that?"

Marcel looks at him. "Um...I just, don't."

Louis blinks. "Okay."

He then goes quiet. They're back to step one, so much for Louis being the definition of seduction. Luckily, they're passing right by the burnt science hall so Louis has a newly found burning passion for a different tactic.

"You see that right there?" He gestures to the wall. Marcel nods. "I did that."

He looks at Louis incredulously.

"Wanna know how?" Louis smirks. Marcel looks nervous, almost like he doesn't want to know, but he totally does, so Louis starts from the beginning. By the end of the story, Marcel's mouth is dropped open though he looks purely entertained, probably more by the fact that Louis was an idiot and lit the bush on fire and still hasn't gotten caught to this day.

Louis cracks his knuckles, a story well done. Marcel is finally relaxed, which is good. He's usually so protected and especially after yesterday it's almost like he only has two emotions: nervous and quiet. So this is a step forward.

They walk past the classrooms, Louis mentioning some random tidbits about each hallway or classroom, and the whole time Marcel just nods. His walls are still so highly guarded and Louis doesn't understand why, if there's something he doesn't want Louis to know then it's not a big deal, Louis isn't going to torture him for information. Louis has done plenty of stupid things in his life and he still owns up to them. The burned science wall is a prime example.

"Um," Marcel speaks up, and Louis immediately turns his attention to him. Marcel glances at Louis then to the ground, twirling his thumbs in circles. "I'm sorry, about yesterday? I left really soon but I remembered I left the stove on."

Damn, the next time Louis has to go on a date he's going to pull that excuse. Wait, _date_? No, that wasn't a date. That was a "bonding over accidentally tripping into you and then inviting you on a run but then you fled like the British" hang out. Unless Marcel saw it as one, then by all means it was a fucking date.

"That's alright, I had some stuff I had to finish up anyway." Louis responds. That's a lie; he had absolutely nothing better to do last night than to watch Garrett continually piss off his squad of fuckboys by shooting them in the heads in Halo. It was boring as fuck and Louis wanted to rip his brain out through his eye sockets.

There's a long stretch of silence between them and Louis is cursing every second of it. What happened to him being cool and suave and seductive? Instead of living up to his stripper nickname _Tommo the Tease_ he's more like _Tommo the Turkey_. Brainless and an idiot.

Fortunately, the tour isn't cut short by Marcel giving some half-assed excuse to leave again, but rather that he's pretty positive he has his route down. Louis smiles and nods, carefully planning his own route during the school days so he "coincidentally" runs into Marcel. They don't have any classes together – given their interests are on the complete opposite side of the spectrum – but Louis isn't going to let that stop him. He bids Marcel goodbye and heads back to the house, where he hardly has time to gain his composure before he steps through the door.

"How was it?" Axel asks, less than half of the boys immediately surrounding him. Louis takes all of them into account: Axel, Chris, Terrance, Gavin, Seth, and Blake. The other nine are missing, they're probably in their classes or in their rooms. Louis resists the urge to crinkle his nose, they must all be horny and desperate to get laid or they would never be so interested in Louis' sex life. Oh well, more props for him.

"It was great." He says, heading upstairs. The white pants and baby blue shirt seemed to be a hit since he swore he saw Marcel checking him out a few times, but who could blame him? Louis is proud of his arse. He's worked hard for it. And by working hard he means sitting on the couch watching television and eating potato chips all day.

"Have you two kissed yet?" Terrance asks. Louis spots Finnian in his room he shares with Xan – which officially makes eight, including him, out of the sixteen boys home – but ignores him and goes into his room, taking his jeans off and switching them out for sweat pants. He doesn't expect to go out again unless he randomly decides to show up at Liam's doorstep.

"No, we'll get to that. It's only been two days," He laughs, sitting on his bed. So far the six boys are still trailing behind him like puppies. Louis sits on his bed and sees that Niall isn't in his. "Where's Niall?"

They all look at each other and shrug. "We don't know."

Louis scowls and pulls out his phone. Once he dials Niall's number he puts the phone up to his ear and waits for him to pick up.

_"'Ello?"_

"Yo, where you at?"

_"Liam's. After you ran out I was bored so I came here."_

"But Niaallllllll I just took my pants off." Louis frowns.

 _"Okay and your point?"_ There's a crunching on the other end. Knowing Niall he's probably eating chips.

"I want to tell you about it." Louis whines, leaning forward on his bed and Niall laughs.

 _"You sound like a teenage girl. I'll put you on speakerphone."_ Niall clicks a button and Louis can hear more rustling.

 _"Hi Louis."_ Liam says. Louis smiles and shoos the other boys out of his room and shuts the door.

"Ayo Li, how's my favorite hermit?" Louis rolls onto his back and kicks his legs up and down. He scowls when the pant legs fall down. Curse his skinny legs.

 _"Says the one who barely gets out of bed unless he has to."_ Liam says. There's a background noise that sounds like a violent video game and Louis wants to play but he's too lazy to get up. Niall exclaims something and the menu music starts back up again.

"Hey, well I'll have you know I have his whole schedule memorized now so when classes start up I can "conveniently" walk down his side of the hall."

He's sure Liam raises an eyebrow. _"Aren't you two on complete opposite sides of the building?"_

"No," Louis says indignantly, "I have a science class, that's close enough right?"

_"Which science?"_

"Political science." Louis mutters. Liam bursts into laughter.

_"Yeah, okay, Louis."_

"But that's besides the point, I already have a plan and I'm positive it's going to work." He slaps his fluffy bedding down and watches it rise back up and does it again. He grins at the mere entertainment of it. "Since I already saw him today and things were good I want to plan something for tomorrow night. Invite him over and I'll "coincidentally" come over and he'll be there. Or unless I just run into him in the halls then that would be even better."

_"And you're positive this is going to work?"_

"Of course, when have I ever been wrong?" Louis says smugly, then thinks about it, and grimaces. "Wait, never mind, don't answer that."

 _"I was going to say."_ Liam says. _"And you're going to do this until he starts classes next week? What'll you do then?"_

"Like I said, just go out of my way and find him in the halls. Everyone has different schedules so I really don't think it'll be that hard to find him. _And_ by getting to know him outside of school then I have a better advantage of him learning to trust me quicker so I'm not just making homework excuses." Louis smiles.

Liam scoffs. _"Well I definitely wish you luck. How did he react when you showed up instead of me?"_

"Shocked, actually, but I guess I am scarier than you." Louis picks at his nails. "So I don't blame him."

 _"I just hope he doesn't hold it against me."_ Liam says. _"I'm not one to go back on my word."_

"Well he can get over it. I can't have him trusting you more than me now can I?" Louis rolls back over on his stomach. "So, tomorrow night, I'll be coming over. And the next day, and the next day, and the next day, until its ingrained in Marcel's schedule to want to see me every day."

 _"You really have been listening in your psychology class."_ Niall says sarcastically, and if Louis were sitting next to him he'd slap him.

"Shut up. I'll call you tomorrow. If Marcel talks to you or anything just let me know."

 _"Okay Mr. Stalker."_ Liam says lightheartedly, and Louis rolls his eyes. He hangs up and leaves his legs suspended in air.

His plan is perfect, there's no way Marcel will be able to resist him after all the time they'll spend together. It's just inevitable; and Louis wants to get this over as quick as possible to get rid of his newly found guilt using Marcel.

**XxX**

_January 8th_

Wednesday after Louis gets back from his classes and has eaten something hardy and wasted time watching some episodes of his favorite shows on Netflix, he texts his lovely friend Liam who just so happens to be neighbors with the boy he's betting his whole life and reputation on. Not that it's a big deal or anything.

**_To: Liam_ **

_Is Marcel there yet ?_

The response takes a few minutes.

**_From: Liam_ **

_Yes._

Louis' grin is so big he feels like his face is going to fall off.

**_To: Liam_ **

_Okayyyyy im going to 'accidentally' come over now ;D_

**_From: Liam_ **

:|

Louis grins and jumps up from the table, grabbing a jacket just in case the weather decides to plummet and heads out the door. The walk to the main campus is quick and he practically bounds up the three flights of stairs to Liam's door where he knocks as gently as he can. Liam opens the door and Louis steps in, immediately seeing Marcel on the couch. He acts surprised by gasping and putting a hand on his chest.

"Marcel, I didn't know you were here!" His tone is so sickeningly sweet even Liam rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen to avoid the initial awkward presentation of Louis' newfound presence. Marcel looks down at his lap and nods.

"Y-Yeah," He says, eyeing Louis like he's the last person he ever wanted to see. Damn, is Louis really that unlikable?

"We were just about to play Call of Duty." Liam says. Louis turns to Marcel.

"You ever played that before?" He asks, and Marcel shakes his head slowly.

"I-I'm not much of a gaming person."

"Well," Louis rubs his hands together cunningly, "you're in for a big surprise. Everyone loves Call of Duty."

Marcel raises a cautious eyebrow but says nothing. Liam returns with a glass of water with three ice cubes floating at the top. Ah, how Louis loves coming over here. He's pampered to death and Liam is his slave. It's pure perfection.

"Your majesty." Liam says dully, and Louis thanks him with a cheeky grin. Liam turns on the Xbox and grabs three controllers before handing one to each of them then sits between them. Marcel eyes the controller uneasily.

"U-Um, are you sure you want me to play–"

"'Course!" Louis interjects, refusing to let Marcel slip out of this one. Louis is sarcastic by nature, and so the next sentence that comes out of his mouth is pure mockery in a lighthearted way. "I mean, unless you left your stove on again, then that's understandable."

The expression on Marcel's face is worth all of Louis' tuition plus the cost of his sister's Mac makeup collection. The last thing he probably expected was Louis to bring back that terrible excuse he fished out yesterday. Marcel is flustered and squirming; he knows Louis knows he was lying and Louis couldn't feel smugger. Louis has to bite his bottom lip to conceal the uncontrollable giggle that's resting on the tip of his tongue.

"Louis, show him how the controller works while I fix the TV." Liam stands up and Louis doesn't hesitate to close the distance between them. This game is so fun, teasing Marcel until his face is fully blown red and his wrists are raw from all the abuse. Louis might actually enjoy this.

"So there's the menu button," He's sure to lean in extra close so Marcel will get a good whiff of his extra sexy man body soap he spent two extra dollars on for this purpose, pointing to the X in the middle of the controller, "and these are your main buttons to play right here." He points to A, B, X, and Y then moves over to the joystick. "This is how you move." He rolls it around with a finger then smiles. "Got it?"

Marcel nods but keeps his gaze down. Louis juts out his bottom lip in a pout then sits forward. By that time Liam has finished "fixing" the television and sits back down on the other side. There are three cushions, but Marcel is pressed flat against the armrest while Louis' leg is only inches away from him and Liam is on the complete opposite side of the couch. Louis likes this setup very much.

Liam turns on the game and they let Marcel get used to the mechanics, having to switch his camera to inverse which Louis finds weird because he's never met a single guy who plays Call of Duty and has their camera on inverse, then they start a game. Marcel is sent into a panic when he starts getting shot at whereas Louis and Liam aim perfectly and dodge each bullet. Louis cackles as Marcel is shot to death within the first minute.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it!" Louis says, feeling the blood pump through his veins. It may just be a video game but it gets him worked up. The feeling of executing an elaborate plan to foil the enemy's formation is the best feeling in the world. One summer back home Louis had spent every day on his couch with Niall just playing each level over and over again until he was number one nation wide. Of course, that only lasted for two days when another user bumped him down to second but the fact that he was able to accomplish it was still one of his greatest feats to this day.

Marcel seems to get the hang of it quickly and soon is catching up to Liam. He passes him in no time and is right below Louis with his stats, which, what the fuck. No one gets that good at a game in only a span of an hour and a half. Louis' hands are sweating.

The one round Marcel hardly beats Louis by a point, Louis throws his controller to the ground in a hazed anger. "Fucking hell Marcel, are you a closet gamer or something?" His tone must be harsher than intended by the way Marcel is looking at him bug-eyed so he brings it down a level. He can't be scaring him away now of all times. _Shit, play it off cool, Tomlinson._ "'Cause you have some mad skills, are you sure you've never played before?"

Marcel is still rigid but his expression relaxes the slightest bit. He offers a half-hearted smile. "W-Well, I mean, I used to play a few years ago but it's been a really long time. I guess I just forgot everything."

"Well I'm certainly impressed." Liam says, wiping off his sweaty palms. "It's been awhile since someone other than Louis beat me."

Louis beams and Marcel smiles at the floor. "Y-Yeah, sorry if I made you mad, Louis."

The way Marcel said his name has shivers running down Louis' spine. It was so innocent, so heartfelt, so _natural._ Louis finds his stare frozen straight ahead, not trusting himself to talk. Liam notices the change of atmosphere and claps his hands together.

"Oh, look, I was supposed to meet Niall. You two can keep playing if you want, I'll be back soon." Liam stands up and pulls out his phone, dialing a number as he hurriedly walks out the door. Marcel opens his mouth then shuts it and clears his throat.

"So...um," Marcel taps his fingers on his knee, and by then Louis has broken out of his stupor. He shakes his head, offering the most genuine smile he can muster.

"No, you didn't make me mad, Marcel. It's just been so long since someone's beat me I'm not used to losing." He cringes at the application to real life. He _will_ get in Marcel's pants in a month whether he has to force it or not. He has a two-class tuition paid, free booze and weed, and Blake and Garrett-less life all riding all on this bet.

"Oh, okay." He says and then goes silent.

The two sit there for a while, either staring at their hands, lap, or the menu on the screen. Louis honestly is at loss for words, how does he even begin to go about this nonchalantly? He's already tried the questioning route and Marcel avoided it like an oncoming bus. Maybe Louis has to be more forward and just come out and say, "lets have sex". He scoffs at the thought.

"So," Louis say, and suddenly feels like he's back in sixth grade texting his crush and being the small eleven-year-olds they were had a contest to see who could get the most "o's" before finding a topic to delve on in a matter of twenty-three seconds then starting all over again. He looks around the room to potentially offer a distraction to the death-binding silence. There is none. Liam's dorm hates him.

"So." Marcel says back, letting out an amused huff. They both look at each other and start laughing, because it's so damn awkward and neither of them know what to talk about. At least they have that in common.

"You, uh, said you came from back west?" Louis asks, remembering his phone call with Zayn the other day. Louis has to admit it's a good conversation starter. Maybe Zayn should be a social worker instead of an artist. Marcel goes rigid and looks to the floor, twiddling his thumbs in circles.

"Y-Yeah."

"Which part?"

"California." He says, glancing at Louis then back down. Louis blinks. Zayn is in California, maybe they know each other.

"Northern or southern?"

"Southern."

Zayn is too, what a small world. Louis muses over the different routes he can take with this conversation; it can't hurt to ask. "Did you happen to know anyone name Zayn Malik? We're good friends, he went there on a scholarship for painting or some shit I can't remember. Might've been graffiti for all I know."

Marcel looks like a deer in headlights and shakes his head. "No, I didn't know him."

Louis shrugs. At least he got more than a one-word answer, it's progress. "Alright, just wondering."

Marcel nods slowly and swallows, his Adam's apple moving up and down. Louis can't take his eyes off it and his gaze slowly trails up to Marcel's eyes to find he's staring back. He looks cautious and slightly frightened. Louis breaks out of his trance and sets his hand lightly on Marcel's fabric-clad arm.

"You alright?"

Marcel blinks and stands up quickly, breaking their contact. "Y-Yes, I just need some water. Do you know where the cups are?"

Louis fights the scowl his brows try to create and nods. "They're in here." He stands up and brushes past Marcel to the kitchen and stands on his tiptoes to reach the cabinet. He hands a glass cup to Marcel and he takes it graciously before filling it with water from the fridge. He drinks it slowly while Louis stares at Liam's bag on the floor, formulating different questions he can ask without scaring, offending, or angering him. It's like he's trying to tiptoe through a minefield and not get blown to pieces.

"How long have you lived in California?"

Marcel holds the cup to his lips before lowering it the slightest bit. "My whole life."

 _Interesting._ "Why'd you come here then?"

Marcel shrugs. "Needed a change."

Well Louis can definitely relate to that. He folds his arms. "I see. Why this school then? Was it a spur of the moment thing?" He says it sarcastically but Marcel apparently doesn't take it like that by the way his eyes widen the size of basketballs.

"U-Um, what time is it?"

"Half past, six, why?" He asks quizzically. The way Marcel is acting Louis swears he's like a doe during hunting season; always bug-eyed and looking for an excuse to bolt.

"I-I need to go, I um, I needed to–" He sets his glass on the counter and goes to walk out of the kitchen but Louis steps in front of him.

"Are you _sure_ , Marcel, or are you just avoiding me asking you questions?" Louis raises his eyebrows and folds his arms. From the way Marcel looks like he's about to shit himself Louis can assume he hit the nail right on the head.

"N-No, Louis, I really need to–"

"Because if you're hiding something you're not doing a very good job of it." He says as a matter of fact. "If you don't want me to ask, just say, _"mind your damn business"_ , and the deed is done! I won't ask you any questions. I'm just trying to be friendly but apparently you don't want to accept that."

"Just _stop_ , okay?" Marcel raises his voice and stuns Louis into silence. There are tears in the rims of his eyes, which definitely isn't good. "I don't want to talk about it, I don't like talking about it, I wanted to get away, is that so hard to understand?"

Louis opens his mouth but there are no words that come out. Marcel is upset. His shoulders and hands are shaking and his jaw is aligned straight. No, this isn't good at all; Louis has to do something quick before he ruins it completely. He went too far and let his mouth run without thinking again. Why does he always fuck things up?

"I-I'm sorry, I," Louis stumbles across his words, taking a step back, "I'm sorry. I went too far." He spares a timid glance up at Marcel, he doesn't look quite as angry but still looks put-off. "I'm sorry."

Marcel looks at him a moment longer then takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out through his nose. He backs away and rubs one arm. He's comforting himself; Louis remembers that from psychology class. Motion is a form of comfort.

"It's okay." Marcel says, sighing, "Just...just some stuff happened there, and I don't like talking about it. I want to forget about it, I'm sorry."

Why is Marcel apologizing? He has no reason too, Louis is the one who decided to stick his nose where it doesn't belong and almost potentially ruined his chance to get laid. So what if Marcel did some stuff he regretted, nothing could be _that_ bad. Louis had gone through the same thing back in the day when him and Zayn glued all the teachers' desks shut for a prank and ended up owing sixty hours of community service. That was a summer he'd never forget.

"No, don't apologize Marcel, it's my fault." Louis gives him a small smile, "Just next time before we fight tell me if I'm crossing a boundary. I'm your friend, I don't want to ruin that."

Louis eases up at the sight of Marcel relaxing. He's stopped rubbing his arm and has resorted to looking at the floor, occasionally glancing up at Louis. Louis is so wound after that he feels like he's run a marathon. He deserves eleven gold trophies for that smooth save.

"So can I ask what happened?" Louis says carefully, closely watching Marcel's reaction. He doesn't want to send him into a full-blow panic attack. Marcel goes deathly silent and his gaze is fixated on the floor. He seems to be in a trance for a full minute before breaking out of it, and are those tears in his eyes?

"No." He answers.

Okay, so there have been a whirlwind of emotions tonight and Louis wants to waterlog himself for putting Marcel through all that turmoil. It's only the seventh day after meeting in the frozen foods aisle and Louis is asking his deepest secrets. What a great friend he is.

_Of course he doesn't want to fucking talk about it, you twat, that's the whole reason he's here. To get away from it!_

"Right, right, sorry," Louis forces a laugh, "so, do you wanna order pizza? I think Liam is bringing Niall back here and he'll be begging for food."

Marcel notices Louis is trying to lighten the mood and nods. "Sure."

"What do you like?" He asks, reaching for his phone. Marcel fidgets.

"Um, anything but meat."

Louis pauses, hand halfway down his pants, and looks up. "What."

Marcel smiles sheepishly. "I've never really liked meat? It's not my thing."

"Oh God, _please_ tell me you're not some weird ass vegan that's pro save the animals."

"Hey, I do believe in saving the animals," Marcel says, "but no, I'm not vegan. I just choose to eat healthy."

"Uh-huh, and when you're in your casket as only bones, people will examine your skeleton and say, _"wow, he ate so healthy!"_ " Louis chides and Marcel chuckles. It's like music to Louis' ears. Marcel is so uptight and secretive, it's nice to see him relaxed and engaged in a real conversation. He mentally thanks Liam for handing them this beautiful opportunity on a silver platter. Louis really owes him.

Since he figures Niall will go down for a meat-lovers but Marcel won't, he opts for the second option, Hawaiian, which is a sin of humanity because pineapple does not belong on pizza. Marcel can pick off he Canadian bacon and Louis can take off the pineapple, so it works. They're a match made in heaven, and there's no way in hell he's just ordering a vegetarian. Marcel isn't that special.

"Honey I'm hooomme!" Niall's voice rings through the room and the door shuts. Louis and Marcel are sat on the couch in another round of Call of Duty, which Niall pauses earning a protest from both of them.

"I'm hungry, Liam do you have food?"

"No need, I ordered pizza." Louis says. Niall looks at him as if he were a savior.

"I fucking love you." He presses a wet kiss on Louis' cheek and he squeals, wiping off the saliva. He hears Marcel snickering to the side of him and Louis turns and rubs the spit on him. He exclaims an "ew!" and Liam watches amused. He doesn't say anything, which Louis is thankful for.

Twenty Niall complain-filled minutes later, the pizza arrives, and Niall bounds to the door, tipping the delivery boy generously before shutting the door with his foot and plops down on the couch between Marcel and Louis. Louis feels a strange growl in the back of his throat as he looks at the distance between him and Marcel. Wasn't Niall pro-fuck Marcel? What is he doing?

"Hawaiian!" He exclaims, "but Lou, you know I like meat lovers."

"Well Marce here doesn't," Louis says, then immediately catches the nickname. He's the deer in headlights now as Niall is giving him that shit-eating grin that makes Louis wants to rip off his face and throw it in a meat grinder. But wait, since Louis actually likes Marcel and Niall thinks he's acting, he doesn't have to actually pretend. He can get away with whatever he wants and Niall won't think anything of it. This is genius.

Marcel simply blushes at the nickname and looks to the floor. Liam grabs paper plates and Niall takes the two biggest pieces before eating them both in record time. Louis picks off the pineapple while Marcel takes off the Canadian bacon, and by a silent conversation with their eyes they swap discarded items. Which, wow, Louis really likes this kid and really wants to shove Niall's smug ass into Davey Jones' locker.

So with Marcel's pineapple-clad pizza and Niall's greasy fingers they all play Call of Duty for so long that Louis doesn't even know what time it is anymore. There's not one scrap of pizza left and Niall has been sitting between Louis and Marcel the whole time and it's pissing Louis off. Maybe Niall has some ulterior motive he's getting at by separating them, but for now, Louis wants to throw him on the floor and kick him.

He's feels much more protective over Marcel after what took place earlier. It just goes to show him that everyone has their own shit they go through and sometimes they don't want to talk about it and that's okay. Louis doesn't want to pressure Marcel into anything he doesn't want to do.

"Damn, is there any coke in here?" Niall asks, and Louis gives him a look.

"What, you in a snorting mood or something?" He earns a cuff on the head for that.

"Not _that_ kind of coke, you idiot, the drink! But I wouldn't put it past you to have any." Niall gets a cuff on the head right back. Karma bitch.

"Hey, just so you know, I keep it clean with weed and nothing else." Louis says defiantly. Hopefully that doesn't turn Marcel off because Louis couldn't give marijuana up even if it would stop the world from ending. Alcohol, yes. Weed, no.

"Have you ever tried ecstasy?" Marcel asks, which earns three pairs of flabbergasted eyes to look his way. He leans away. "I-I haven't done it, I'm just asking."

"God, you scared me." Louis holds a hand to his heart. He can't even imagine innocent Marcel doing something as hardcore as ecstasy. Louis wasn't even that crazy. "I was gonna say, in front of the right people, you're a legend. But for other people you're an idiot."

Marcel fiddles with his fingers. "I-I mean, back home I had friends who tried it but they never did again."

"They didn't die, did they?" Liam asks.

Marcel shakes his head. "One had to go to the hospital and the others were paranoid and anxious for a long time but that was about it. I moved schools by then and didn't keep in touch."

At the revelation of his past, Louis purses his lips and looks forward. Huh. Maybe Marcel isn't so innocent after all if he hung out with the druggies back home. Maybe he got into trouble with drugs and his family so wanted to get away to let things cool down a bit; that's actually part of the reason Louis came to college. His mother had caught him smoking in the backyard one too many times for her to actually _want_ him in the house anymore in fear of his sisters catching him or finding it in his drawer. That was one of the main reasons why he decided to move out. Now, he made his own decisions and didn't have to live up to anyone's expectations but his own.

"I've only tried weed but that's 'cause of 'ol Tommo here." Niall pats Louis on the back and he gives him a cheeky look. "S'not my thing."

"I haven't done anything before and I'm not about to." Liam says. "Sorry to rain on your weed parade."

Subconsciously, all three of them are expecting a voice to chime _"me neither Liam it's okay"_ , but it never comes. They slowly move all their gazes to Marcel and he backs away again.

"Why are you looking at me?" Marcel asks tentatively.

"Have you ever done drugs?" Louis asks, appalled to even think he has. What a lovely night this is learning everyone's secrets. Marcel's eyes widen.

"W-Well, I mean, yeah," He bites his lower lip and Louis looks at it, "but not for a long time."

Louis doesn't know whether to be shocked or relieved. At least he's not completely opposed to the idea of drugs – that makes Louis' life much easier. And now he's officially scrapping the title "Innocent Marcel" and just pegging him as "Nerd Marcel". Oh boy, he can definitely feel the stereotyped stigma in his brain having an aneurysm right now.

The other two seemed to be as shocked as Louis so he feels better about not overreacting. Marcel is just itching to get out of their gazes so for his sake Louis unpauses the game and they all turn their focus back to it, no sign of ever having the previous conversation. After a while, Louis notices something, and speaks up.

"Liam, where are your roommates?"

"Huh?" He pauses the game. "Oh, they went home over the break. I guess they just haven't come back yet."

"Why didn't you?" Louis raises an eyebrow. Liam seems like he'd have a good family; Louis' never met them but from what Niall has said they sound typical. No real big issues, such as any of them going to rehab or getting arrested or being famous. Louis is almost jealous but then he remembers how boring Liam is then feels better about himself.

Liam shrugs. "I like it here. Besides, I figured I would get to hang out with you guys." He nudges Louis' shoulder and he laughs.

"Yeah, 'cause we're _so_ much fun."

"No, really, I love getting Taco Bell with you at three in the morning." Liam grins. "And Niall is always a riot, but it's nice to have Marcel here too. He balances out you two crazies."

At the mention of his name, Marcel shyly smiles. Louis scoffs and pulls out his phone.

"Trying to go sentimental on me, Liam? I'm ordering more pizza."

Marcel glances at the clock on the wall. "But it's eleven."

Louis shrugs. "So? I'm hungry."

He scowls. "But it's not healthy to eat after–"

 _"Marcel,"_ Louis leans forward to look at him, and Marcel goes quiet but he's still smiling at Louis' attempt to scold him. Louis can't even find the words he's looking for so he laughs, making Marcel chuckle as well. Liam and Niall give each other a look as Louis dials the pizza place and orders another Hawaiian, because why the fuck not.

"Well I dunno about you," Niall stands up and stretches, letting out a strangled groan. "but I'm going to get a drink. Since we got distracted."

They all grin and Niall leaves the room, and only when Louis hangs up does he realize the obstacle between him and Marcel is gone. Niall is doing this on purpose, Louis knows that, but how does he nonchalantly scoot closer to Marcel without making it obvious?

He apparently doesn't have to do much when Niall comes back with a liter of Mountain Dew and plops between him and Liam. Louis squirms out from his weight and Niall unscrews the cap, making it fizz.

"Cheers to this wonderful life," He says, pouring the soda in a red solo cup. He lifts it in the air and Louis snatches it from him and takes a long drink from it. Niall protests and grabs for it but Louis giggles as he scrambles away to the armrest, holding it above his head.

"Get your own cup, I deserve this one." He says snidely, too busy to notice he's ended up in Marcel's lap. He laughs once more then realizes the predicament he's in and immediately stops to look at Marcel. He looks alarmed but not repulsed, so Louis weakly offers the cup to him.

"Drink?"

He shakes his head. Louis shrugs and takes a sip, setting it on the coffee table and grabbing his controller. He's tempted to move, but Marcel isn't seemingly protesting having Louis' legs thrown over his lap so he stays there. He even rests his hands on Louis' thighs as he grips the controller. Either it's suddenly really hot in the room or it's just Louis.

Louis ignores the suggestive eyebrow lifts Niall is giving him and flips him off. He cackles and unpauses the game, starting another round. This time, Marcel dies first so he sets his controller on the couch and timidly rests his hands on Louis' thighs. Because of that Louis' focus on the game is broken and is earned a headshot. He groans as his character falls to the ground.

"You're not doing too good, Tommo!" Niall says, and Louis wants to shove him up a cow anus. Niall deserves to suffocate in a pool of digested grass and feces.

"Yeah, yeah, it's the Mountain Dew." He says though he's not partly wrong. It's been so long since he's had just soda and not actual alcohol that he forgot how much quicker it gets into his bloodstream. He takes another drink albeit the lack of sleep he's already doomed to face tonight. Hopefully the rest of them are up for pulling an all-nighter.

A while later another pizza is delivered and this time Louis jumps up, too buzzed on carbonation to mind Marcel's killing streak, and opens the door, giving a minimal tip because this delivery boy was two minutes slowly than the other one. Not that Louis was counting.

There's a sense of déjà vu as Louis and Marcel swap toppings, and Louis even gets adventurous and throws a piece of ham at his face. He looks shocked at first, and Louis almost thinks he's offended him, until he throws a chunk of pineapple back. Oh, so he wants to play _this_ game.

Liam can seem to predict the full-blown food fight that's about to take place and panics. "If you two are going to have a food fight, take it in the kitchen. I don't want a mess in here."

Since Louis is feeling saucy and hyped up from the sugar in his system, he hops off of Marcel's lap and throws another piece of ham at him. It hits his glasses and creates a smudge, and Louis giggles at his expression, running and sliding into the kitchen on his socks. Marcel is right behind him with pieces of pineapple from his pizza, which isn't fair because there are more of them and they're easier to get off. Louis eventually stoops to the ground to pick up the pineapple chunks that were thrown at him in retaliation of Marcel. By now Marcel has taken off his glasses which makes it a great day for Louis but he doesn't have too much time to think about it before he gets a whole pizza slice to his face.

As Marcel goes to grab his paper plate resting on the counter for a shield, he trips on Liam's bag resting on the floor against the counter and falls onto Louis who then falls to the ground. He yelps as his back hits the floor and he's vaguely aware Marcel is over him but hasn't recovered yet. He's pretty sure he just bruised his tailbone and he doesn't want to make things awkward. It's inevitable, so slowly, his lids open, and what he sees isn't what he expected.

Marcel is frozen in place; hands pinned on each side of Louis' face, his expression horrified. There's a distant look in his eyes that's screaming and crying for something Louis can't place. His irises are a hazed color and Louis almost doesn't recognize him for a second. He props himself up on his elbows and eyes Marcel warily.

"...Marcel? You okay?"

_A distinct crack rings through the room. The color rushes from his face._

_Blood. Blood. Blood_

_Footsteps approach quietly. There's a clatter of an item dropping on the ground._

_"Oh my God..."_

_"I-I didn't mean..."_

"Hey, Marce."

_No. No no no no no._

_He raises it up and brings it crashing down. Blood._

_He drops it to the floor. More blood._

"Marcel!" Louis shouts, and Marcel immediately snaps out of his trance. He promptly backs away, his chest heaving and body shaking as he recoils against the dishwasher. Louis sits up and holds out a hand.

"Marce, is everything alright?"

Tears threaten to spill from Marcel's eyes. He looks around the room in a panic and tries to stand up but ends up falling back down. Louis reaches out to help him but Marcel desperately swats his hand away.

"No, no! Don't touch me, don't touch me!" He says in a frenzy, "Don't...please..."

Louis holds his hands out in front of him defensively yet in a calming manner. This is definitely unpredictable and it was the last thing Louis was expecting. Liam and Niall come skidding into the kitchen and Marcel snaps his gaze to them, fear swirling in his eyes as he pushes himself further against the dishwasher, hugging himself and breathing erratically.

"He's having a panic attack," Liam says. "Louis, get back."

Louis is wrenched with the utmost concern. What the hell? They were literally just laughing forty-five seconds ago, what could've possibly triggered Marcel so quickly? He stumbles to his feet and takes a step back, standing next to Niall while Liam crouches down.

"Hey, Marcel," He says quietly, "Marcel, can you hear me?"

Marcel's gaze is still fixated on the floor, tears relentlessly spilling from his eyes. He's rocking back and forth now, his uneven breaths not easing and clutching his sleeves as if his life depended on it. Liam shuffles forward the slightest bit.

"Marcel, stay with me, I want you to focus on your breathing." He asks. Marcel is unresponsive and Liam scoots closer. "Breathe in for two seconds, exhale for two. Can you do that for me?"

Marcel's throat hitches as his hyperventilating stops momentarily. He's trying, trying _so hard_ , but it's not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. Liam slowly reaches out to rest his hand on Marcel's shoulder and he flinches away but not as violently.

"Louis, Niall, can you leave for a moment?" Liam says, keeping his eyes on Marcel. Louis scowls and is about to open his mouth to rant about all the reasons why he _shouldn't_ leave but Niall drags him out of the room onto the balcony before he can do that. He huffs and kicks the railing before slumping against it petulantly.

"What the hell happened?" Niall asks breathlessly, and Louis can tell he's just been dying to know. Louis shrugs, half pissed off half apathetic. Fuck Marcel, he totally just ruined Louis' mood for the whole night.

"Couldn't tell ya. He tripped on Liam's bag and fell on me then flipped out." Louis says. He's too distracted trying to figure out why he's angry. There's no reason for him to be, Marcel is having a panic attack so he shouldn't be thinking about himself for fucks sake.

He replays the scene in his head. Everything was good and friendly; they were playing Call of Duty and Marcel was winning most of the rounds, they started throwing pineapple and ham at each other, Louis hadn't asked any personal questions, then suddenly Marcel tripped and flipped out. So what was the problem? Did he have a phobia of Louis? Had he thought their clothes were going to magically poof off and they would be naked? Was he a bottom and was scared to top?

Over half and hour passes by and finally Liam walks out with Marcel. He doesn't even glance at Louis or Niall and shuffles to his room and closes the door behind him. Louis and Niall watch him carefully then turn to Liam, Louis pissed and Niall confused.

"What happened?" Louis' tone is demanding.

Liam shrugs, but Louis knows he knows. "It's nothing. He's fine now."

Louis is going to interject but Niall speaks before him. "How did you calm him down?"

Liam glances at Marcel's door then sighs. "Come in here," He says and Louis and Niall follow him back into the dorm.

Liam shuts the door behind them and Niall and Louis sit on the couch while Liam sits on the coffee table. Louis can already tell this is going to be a serious conversation, yet his previous irritation is still present. His mind is averted when Liam sighs deeply and props his knees up.

"A while ago, my parents did foster care. They took in kids for a month to give them a break from their home life or just out of the orphanage. Many kids were depressed or had anxiety so I was able to help take care of them. We took in a little boy named Jonah and his dad constantly beat him until one day he overdosed and shot his wife. When the paramedics arrived he was found stuffed in a closet." Liam takes a deep breath to compose himself then continues.

"Jonah was sent to the orphanage where he hardly got the treatment he deserved. Any small thing that reminded him of that experience would send him into a panic attack. After we took him in there was one day when my parents were gone and they had always been the ones to calm him down. Well, he was walking through the living room when he saw our closet open and our shotgun inside from when my dad last went hunting 'cause he hadn't put it out in the garage yet. When I got downstairs I found him on the floor having an attack.

"I had no idea what to do but just went off what I'd seen my parents do. Since then I never took my eyes off of him and we slowly got to a place where he could avoid unnecessary places he would possibly be triggered. At the time I thought it was weird something so simple set him off but I soon learned that it doesn't take much." Liam lets out a sigh. "So all I'm saying is don't get mad at Marcel if he starts to panic. He already feels embarrassed, so please don't bring it up to him."

Niall is looking at the floor while Louis' eyes are fixated on Liam. Well, now he definitely feels inadequate and hates himself for being such a prick. Louis stands up with a huff, picking up the paper plates and pizza boxes before making a neat pile on the table. Sometimes he cleans when he's stressed.

"So do you know why he had a panic attack?" Niall finally asks, and Louis is grateful he asked because he can't stand not knowing any longer. He knew there was something wrong but he just didn't think it would be _this_ bad.

Liam shakes his head. "No, I don't. It could be genetic; it could be an experience he had. You never really know unless the person themselves know and they tell you."

Louis throws away the trash and paces around the room. He's not sure what to do, he wants to go make sure Marcel is okay but at the same time he wants to go back to the house and pretend like the end of tonight didn't happen. It's already past midnight and he's exhausted and still has Niall to deal with no matter which option he chooses.

Liam seems to read his mind and gives him a sympathetic look. "Just go back to the house, Louis. You can talk to him tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Louis waves at him, grabbing his phone. "C'mon, Ni."

Niall hops up and they bid Liam goodbye and walk out the door. Louis casts a glance to Marcel's door as they pass it to go into the corridor to the three flights of stairs. Five minutes later when the house is in view, Niall speaks up.

"You had some damn good acting today." He says, his tone a fraction lighter. "I was even impressed!"

Louis' steps falter. Right, he's supposed to be acting like he doesn't care about Marcel. In Niall's eyes today was just another step closer to getting in his pants, there was no remorse or emotions behind it. Louis feels a stab of guilt before he brushes it off and grins.

"Good, I was trying to make it believable."

Niall nudges him. "At this rate you'll definitely make it."

"Yeah." Louis says, not convinced at all that he can keep this façade up any longer.

**A/N: Hiiii, I apologize for being so inactive. I'm still trying to figure out an ending for this fic so I've been slowing down the updates so I can catch up with myself *laughs nervously* but in any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**XxX**

_January 15th_

A week.

It's been a _whole_ week and there's been no sign of Marcel. Nothing. Nada. Louis feels like he's been driving up a fifty-foot wall with all the tail chasing he's done. He's spent the entire week walking over to Liam's consecutively three times a day all at different hours, making sure to take his time when walking up or down the stairwell. But the fact is, Marcel. Is. Nowhere. To. Be. Found.

Louis' knows Marcel has started his classes by now, and he even purposely loitered around his classrooms but there has still been no sightings. Louis' elaborate scheme he had planned down to the last detail is now ruined. The less time they spend together the less Marcel falls for Louis and the more time it'll take to get in his pants. Louis' life hates him.

Over the week, it was Zayn's birthday, which Louis celebrated by getting drunk off his ass and called Zayn at four AM on Sunday. Zayn, of course, treasures his sleep dearly, so wasn't too happy, but was glad Louis made an effort to be the first one to congratulate him into the realm of being a twenty-two year old. Since it was Saturday transitioning into Sunday, Louis was relieved when Zayn didn't wonder why he was drunk, rather, applauded him for loosening up after being rigid for so long. Louis didn't get drunk because it was Zayn's birthday, no; he did it because of Marcel. Zayn doesn't need to know that, though.

Louis trudges to his class, not even bothering to walk past the English hall because it's too damn early in the morning and he needs either a Venti from Starbucks or a shot of tequila or maybe even both. Louis is a failure at life. He's a failure and he's going to have to pay for every club and all the booze and all his Coco Pops will be gone and he'll have to do Niall's homework and be his housemaid for a month and still have Blake and Gavin annoy him on a daily basis. Each realization that hits him feels like a bullet penetrating through his chest and exploding into billions of pieces.

Despite him, _Hide and Seek_ echoes in his brain as he sits in his chair and throws his bag full of binders, pencils, and notebooks to the side. He sits on the third row back, second seat in on the right side. There's no particular reason for it, he just figures he would rather have room on both his right and left rather than just his left and then the ground. He hates having to put effort into anything that doesn't actually _need_ effort.

Class seems to take forever in his self-pity celebration and when it finally ends he lets out a sigh of relief. Still, the nagging feeling of Marcel being MIA all week has him troubled. Before, usually Louis would've caught a glance of him retiring into his dorm or leaving it early morning. Maybe Louis is going at the wrong times? Maybe Marcel is too embarrassed over having that panic attack in front of Louis, Niall, and Liam? A thought comes to Louis' mind that says, _"maybe he's avoiding you on purpose?"_

Louis finds this an appropriate time to sing _mmm whatcha say_ and have a bullet put him out of his misery, or maybe even bash his skull into a brick wall. Right when he finds said brick wall that will soon be having a friendly meeting with his forehead, he stops and rethinks his life choices. He's spent the last week moping about some boy he's trying to have sex with all to stay in a frat house he doesn't want to even be in and all because a lifetime supply of Coco Pops and two classes of tuition is riding on this bet.

Seriously, when the fuck did Louis get so pathetic? He has to shape up or he'll be even more disappointed in himself. If he doesn't make the month deadline, so what? It's only the fifteenth, so he still has time. And it's not like he's going to get kicked out, only Niall and Liam know his little predicament and they aren't going to tell. Or, at least Louis _hopes_ they won't, or he'd be in a lot of trouble. Blake and Garrett will still be in his life, he might spend all his money on food for Niall, so what? He can earn it back and he'll learn patience is a virtue. He needs it anyway.

 _Leave it to fate,_ he tells himself, _if you don't find Marcel today then drop it. Tell Niall you're finding a new fucking potential and it'll be done. Start over. Don't worry about it anymore._

Louis walks to his next class and sinks into the back row, falling asleep instead of listening to the lecture.

He feels much better when he wakes up two hours later, and his brain feels considerably lighter. He guesses the realization that if him and Marcel are destined to fuck then the universe will bring them together, kind of like serendipity. Louis has put in effort so now it's fates turn to reciprocate.

Pushing back the lonely disheartened feeling in his chest, Louis sighs as he heads back to the fraternity.

**XxX**

_January 17th_

Two days later it's Friday and there's _still_ no sign of Marcel. Louis still hasn't told Niall his problem yet, Marcel still hasn't called him so Louis doesn't have his number so it's not like he can call and ask Marcel, "are you avoiding me?" It almost seems as if Marcel has dropped off the face of the Earth.

Even when Louis called Liam in a post-high depression last night Liam said he hadn't seen Marcel either all week. So it's obvious it isn't meant to be. Serendipity, Louis scoffs. It's just some word used for hopeless fools who think fate still actually exists in this world and can bring them happiness. For Louis, it doesn't. It never has.

Louis is done with his classes for the day when he sees a familiar mop of gelled hair and bad fashion standing in front of the main office bulletin board. He's wearing the same ratty clothes he had on when they first met and looking as awkward as ever, and honestly, Louis has never been happier to see his dull face.

"Marcel!" Louis calls out, ignoring the looks his fellow students give him, but fuck them because he actually missed Marcel, and runs over to him. Marcel turns in surprise and takes a step back when he thinks Louis is going to pounce on him.

"O-Oh, um, hi." He says, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

 _He has_ so _been avoiding me._ Louis is glaring in his mind. He honestly can't believe it, he's been nothing but nice to Marcel then he goes and ignores him for nine days. _Nine_ days! Louis is genuinely offended but keeps his outward appearance cheerful.

"Where've ya been? I missed you." Louis says, and then immediately regrets it, but then doesn't, because it's the truth and he's supposed to be getting into Marcel's pants anyway. He's crushed any sort of romantic feelings he held towards Marcel so he won't feel guilty about using him anymore; and besides, Marcel ignored him for nine days. So what's the problem again?

Marcel looks flustered, and he fiddles with his shoulder bag that definitely looks like it's five years old. Louis starts to think it's cute but then stops himself. He can't think it's cute; it's annoying, and Louis really wants to take Marcel shopping and make him less of an embarrassment to society.

"Oh, um, nowhere. I've just been here."

"Uh-huh," Louis says slowly, "usually I see you around campus though."

Marcel shrugs, and Louis feels like he's on the teacups at Disneyland except it never stops. He just keeps going in circles and circles and circles until he's too dizzy to see two feet in front of him.

"I'm sorry, I-I just didn't really feel like being around people." Marcel says, and now that Louis actually takes a moment to look at him, he notices how tired Marcel looks. His eyes are bloodshot, he looks skinnier than usual, his skin is paler and he's definitely avoiding eye contact more than he normally does. Not _once_ since they started talking has Marcel actually looked at Louis. Even within the short amount of time they've known each other, Louis definitely knows something is wrong.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks out of the blue. "Like, you don't have to tell me what's wrong, just, is everything alright?"

Slowly, Marcel's eyes meet his, and there's an underlying melancholy that looks so lonely and painful, like on the inside he's crumbling apart and screaming for help but is smiling and acting like everything is fine on the outside. Louis almost has to look away because all he sees in Marcel's eyes is a reflection of himself.

"It's been a rough week." Marcel says, and even his high feathery voice sounds scratchy, frail, and exhausted. It's unusual for him. He really is in bad shape.

"You know you can always call me, Liam, or Niall, right? We'll always help you." Louis hates the way this conversation is turning sentimental but he can't help it. His mask is slipping and it's hard to keep it up when Marcel acts like an abandoned puppy on the streets dragging around a sack of expired dog kibble just hoping to catch a sympathetic glance from a passerby.

"I-I know, and I'm sorry I haven't talked to you guys for a while. I just..." Marcel scrubs his forehead. "I needed some time."

"Yeah, I get that." Louis says, both bitter and empathy swirling in his stomach. He glances at the clock. "Um, do you have any classes after this?" He doesn't, but Louis is going to pretend like he still doesn't have Marcel's schedule memorized.

"No." There's an underlying suspicion in Marcel's eyes. "Why?"

"Why don't you come hang out with us three for a while? You don't have to talk or do anything, I just don't want you to be by yourself."

Louis doesn't understand why he's saying this. He's supposed to not care about Marcel, he's supposed to act like this isn't a big deal. Marcel's problems shouldn't effect Louis in any way shape or form, but for some reason, Louis can't stop wanting to protect Marcel with his life. To see him so weak and like he can hardly stand on his own two feet is the last thing Louis has ever wanted to happen.

Marcel looks at him for a long time and Louis can slowly see his exterior walls falling down piece by piece. There's a permanent frown etched in his expression and he looks like he's about to cry. There's so much about Marcel that Louis doesn't know or understand but he can't begin to fathom what even happened to have broken Marcel this badly.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Louis says, hesitantly reaching out to touch Marcel's arm. Marcel flinches away to say he doesn't want it but the way his face scrunches up says the opposite. He's screaming to be held and told it's okay, he's begging for the same things Louis never got from the time he was a child, he's a mess of a person and doesn't know how to deal with it other than push people away. Louis understands; he understands better than anyone.

All at once, Marcel's composure breaks. He lets out a choked breath and Louis immediately pulls Marcel into a tight hug. Marcel buries his head into Louis' shoulder, emitting small sobs and tears dripping down his cheeks and soaking into Louis' shirt. Louis suddenly becomes hyper aware of the students staring at them as they walk past, and Louis guides Marcel outside. He leads him to a private bench by a canopy of trees and sits Marcel down, keeping a hand on his back. Marcel has his face buried in his hands, shoulders quivering violently.

"I-I'm, I'm sorry," He blubbers, "You-You probably think I'm pathetic."

Pathetic? It's actually quite the opposite; Louis thinks Marcel is an enigma who tries too hard to push away his feelings in order to keep other people satisfied. Louis thinks Marcel is a wonderful person who isn't allowing himself to have fun and live to the fullest, Louis thinks Marcel is holding onto something he can't face alone. Louis thinks Marcel _needs_ someone.

Louis doesn't answer, because he's been in this situation before and he knows no matter what he says Marcel will discount it as Louis pitying him. Louis keeps rubbing his back and swirling circles with his thumb on Marcel's spine; back home it's what his mother used to do when he came home crying from a rough day at school or when his pet goldfish died when he was thirteen. Back then losing his pet fish was traumatic. Now? It can't even compare.

"I-I...I wish I could tell you, but, but I just _can't_." Marcel shakes his head. "I just can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't understand." Marcel leans up and looks at Louis through his teary eyes. "No one would. Not you, not Niall, not even Liam."

Louis' brows furrow and he slowly takes his hand off Marcel's back. He offers Marcel a soft smile. "Come on, I'm sure it's not that bad."

Marcel sniffs and looks to the ground. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew."

There's a gust of wind that rolls by, blowing through Louis' fringe and past Marcel's ratty clothes. Okay, so Marcel feels like absolute shit and Louis has no idea what to do other than to rub his back. They're in the middle of campus alone and Marcel is crying and Louis is at a loss of what to say. What did he get himself into? Louis could've avoided this entire mess if only he didn't care, but he does. And for some reason, that's okay with him. Only with Marcel.

"Do you...want to talk about it, then?" Louis asks slowly. He honestly has no idea how he got in this situation and isn't sure whether to panic or call Liam and let him take over. He's better with these types of things; Louis has only taken one psychology class in college and that isn't going to help him solve all of Marcel's deeply rooted problems.

Marcel keeps looking forward, looking torn between spilling his entire life story and staying silent. Louis can conclude that Marcel isn't used to talking about his own feelings and is more about making sure other people are happy before himself. He's selfless but being that way all the time is draining, and Louis knows that better than anyone.

"I...made some bad decisions." Marcel says, eyes quivering and voice scratchy. "And I hate myself for it."

"Hey, we've all done things we regret, so it's okay." Louis reassures.

"But I _can't_ take this one back." Marcel says, almost like he's desperately craving to rid one simple memory. "I can't take it back, but I want to forget any of it ever happened."

"Okay, so why don't you forget then?" Louis honestly doesn't see the problem here. Forgive and forget has been his mantra the last three years and it's been pretty great. He's gotten over some nasty regrets and feels happier for it; he doesn't see how Marcel isn't grasping that concept.

Marcel tugs at his hair. "It's, it's not that simple. With what I did it's impossible."

"Why don't you talk about it then?"

"You don't understand, I just _can't_. _"_ He says, a fresh batch of tears falling down his face. "No one would understand."

Louis sits back, utterly stumped. They've gotten nowhere with this conversation. With Louis' famous mantra and Marcel's stubborn nature it's like they're playing cat and mouse. Marcel keeps running and Louis keeps chasing. They have to find a compromise somewhere if Louis ever wants them to form any type of relationship. _Clearly_ Louis is shit at forming those because all he's ever done is fuck, dump, repeat. Marcel is the only person who has ever given him an actual chance for a real relationship, yet Louis still managed to screw it up.

Louis gets an idea, and since it's the only thing that seems sane, he goes with it. "Hey, you wanna hear about something crazy I've done?"

Marcel sniffles and fixes his posture, then looks at Louis. "What?"

"Well, you remember the burned science hall?" He asks. Marcel nods. "That's not the only time I've caught something on fire at this school."

Marcel scowls and Louis decides to take that as his cue to continue. "It was last year, I was really into smoking cigarettes. I know, gross right? It's not so much my thing now, I just stick with plain weed, but you already know that." Marcel's expression lightens and Louis sees this as progress.

"So anyway, I was with my stoner buddies and we were out one night smoking. Of course, there's a strict policy against any drugs on campus but who listens to rules these days? Well anyway, it was that time of the year when all the leaves were on the ground and my friend had a lighter. He decided it would be fun to get a huge pile of leaves and singe them all, and guess who they made do it?"

"You." Marcel says.

Louis nods. "Yup. Which led to a domino effect of catching the dead grass on fire and the school had to call the fire department at two in the morning. None of us got caught but there's still a patch of dead grass behind one of the girl fraternities. I never go over there anymore because they know we did it and swore in their oath that if they were to ever see us around there again they wouldn't hesitate to rat us out. So I have a few enemies in this school, if you were curious."

Marcel seems noticeably more cheery and Louis mentally high-fives himself. Way to have stupid experiences that lighten people's moods, it works like a charm every time.

"Have you ever done anything crazy like that?" Louis asks, genuinely curious.

Marcel shrugs half-hearted. "No."

"Oh come on," Louis says, hoping this isn't pushing the limit. If it is, he can quickly transition the conversation back to school or something pointless like that one duck everyone knows in the pond at the campus park that struggles to swim. "not even something small?"

Marcel looks torn. Like he wants to say it but he doesn't want to. Louis gives him a look somewhere between puppy-dog and bedroom eyes but he can't quite tell which ones since he doesn't have a mirror. Marcel finally cracks and sighs.

"Fine...I trespassed once."

Louis blinks. Trespassing. That's...it? He does his best not to fall on the ground and laugh his ass off. Marcel, the one who's hung around friends who took ecstasy and has smoked weed and done something unforgivable, and the worst he's done is _trespassed_? Who is this human being and how has he lived in this world so innocently?

"Trespassing. Okay." Louis says, rubbing his hands together. "Where at?"

Marcel shrugs. "Just the school grounds. We got caught and went to juvie for one night until our parents came and picked us up."

Louis can't stop his uncontrollable laughter this time. "The _one_ time you do something moderately illegal you get _caught_?"

Marcel smiles and wipes away the remaining tears. "It wasn't my fault, I swear!"

"Yeah, yeah," Louis wipes his own watery eyes, "just keep telling yourself that."

Marcel nudges him and he looks back to the canopy of trees. The air is light now, just how Louis likes it. He may have not gotten a solid answer out of Marcel but at least now he's no longer crying. If there is one thing Louis hates more than being out of weed it's taking care of crying people. He never knows what to do or say, he leaves that specific avenue for Liam.

"So are you feeling better, even a little?" He asks. Marcel rubs his puffy eyes and nods.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for that. It just can be too much sometimes, you know?"

 _Oh, I know._ Louis thinks, and nods. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

There's a silence that follows after that and Louis isn't quite sure what to do next. He seriously can always bring up the duck if it really gets to that awkward point, but Louis' last name isn't Tomlinson for a reason. He never admits defeat.

"So...do you wanna go get lunch, or something?" Louis asks, his wretched voice betraying his confident demeanor. Damn his mediocre acting skills, he hasn't been in a drama class since freshman year so he's a little rusty. But if tonight is the night he might as well ask Marcel to dinner or just for a simple ice cream cone; after all chivalry never dies.

Marcel looks taken aback and looks at his watch. "Um, are you sure?"

If he wasn't he wouldn't have asked. Marcel obviously doesn't know this about Louis yet. "Positive. I know you're pro-save the animals, so where d'you want to go?" He winks and Marcel gives him a smile that almost looks coy. Ooh, the little shithead wants to fight.

"It's up to you, I honestly have no idea where anything is here." Marcel says. He has a point, so Louis stands up.

"Alright, well Marcel, I will be your guide this evening; keep your hands, arms, and feet in the vehicle at all times because it's gonna be a wild ride." He says, and Marcel finally grins.

Louis smiles. He might as well have fun with this while it lasts because once they have sex it's bye-bye Marcel and hello guiltless conscious. Louis knows for a fact he could never get away with this behavior around Niall or any of the frat boys; he doesn't even think he could do it in front of Liam. Only Marcel.

 _Strange,_ he thinks as he and Marcel walk through campus and throw their bags in the trunk of his car. _Very strange indeed._

 

**XxX**

_January 18th_

The next day is surprisingly humid even for it being January. Louis' hair refuses to style no matter how much hairspray or gel he uses, so he opts for a snapback to cover his shameful head of dead protein slicked with greasy hair product. There's scruff on his chin since he's forgotten to shave and all around he looks like a caveman from 2000 B.C. He's tempted to walk around campus with a flashing sign that says BAD HAIR DAY PLS IGNORE.

His first outfit is depressingly ruined when Gavin trips and spills chocolate milk all over his white pants. He doesn't want to smell like a desiccating dairy cow so he changes into some blue jeans. Then that pair is ruined when Niall is doing the dishes and accidentally sprays the extended faucet on him, making it look like he peed himself. All boys are almost too afraid to laugh as Louis storms upstairs and throws on a pair of gym shorts and a Vans baseball tee. He glances at himself in the mirror and groans. He looks like the epitome of a white fraternity fuckboy. Fuck him.

Louis goes back downstairs and avoids liquids at all costs. He runs out the door with a box of poptarts and liter of Mountain Dew and ignores the stares he gets as he throws his skateboard to the ground and hops on it, a clear violation of campus rules but he doesn't care. It's Saturday so he supposes he can get away with it.

Munching on his poptarts as he skates to Liam's dorm, Louis kicks his skateboard up one he gets to the stairwell. Taking two steps at a time, he gets to Liam's door and knocks, sparing a glance at Marcel's dorm to his right. They left on a very good note yesterday and Louis vaguely wonders if he'll see him today.

Liam opens the door and Louis strolls in. His roommates are in the kitchen and Louis rolls his eyes. He's never met any of them yet doesn't like them. But Liam doesn't need to know that.

"You know you can just walk in," Liam says as Louis plops down on the couch. He pulls out another package of poptarts and flips the box over to read the nutrition facts.

"Yeah, well since your roommates are back I figured it's only polite." He says. "Damn, high fructose corn syrup and five grams of fat? I'm asking for a death wish." He takes a bite then stops as crumbs fall in between the cushions. He looks up at Liam sheepishly.

"I'll vacuum it later." He says. "But you seem rather cheerful today, what's up?"

"Marce and I went out for lunch yesterday after a nice heartfelt talk." Louis says. "He had me try this weird vegetarian sandwich that had like avocados, sprouts, and artichoke hearts on it. It tasted really weird but it was actually good."

Liam laughs. "Are you serious? You never eat stuff like that."

"I know! It's crazy." Louis says, breaking the second poptart in half. "He had me try his which was this pastrami cheese with some weird looking pepper seasoning and spinach. I thought it was going to be gross but it wasn't too bad."

Liam smiles and sits on the coffee table. "Well would you look at that, even after a week of him being MIA you two are actually getting along."

Louis glares at him. "Shut up, I was just being nice. He started crying yesterday and me being the terrible comforter I am told him about all the shitty things I've done. He keeps freaking out over his past and what he did is unforgivable and stuff which I really don't see what could be that bad." He finishes the last bite and crumples up the wrapper. "It's Marcel, what could he have possibly done?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," Liam scowls when Louis throws the wrappers on the cushions and the leftover crumbs fall out. "Everyone has done something whether good or bad that makes them who they are, I don't think Marcel is as innocent as you make him out to be."

Louis pauses opening his Mountain Dew and shrugs. "Eh, you're right, but at the same time you don't have any big dark secrets, do you?"

"Not that I know of." Liam says. "I'm a pretty open guy."

"Exactly. And if Marcel seems more innocent than you, then I'm sure it's really not that bad." The drink fizzes as he screws off the cap. He takes a long drink and lets out a satisfied breath. "You know what's great about college? I can eat what I want for breakfast and my mom doesn't freak out. How great is that?"

"Isn't there some code of rule in your fraternity about good diets?" Liam asks. Louis scowls.

"Hell no. Only if something is ours then we have to claim it. Like my cereal for example, everyone knows not to touch it unless they have my permission. Kind of like Niall's food in general." Louis takes a drink. "And if they do then they get their heads chopped off. Except Chad, he's about the only one who can get away with stealing food from Niall. Don't ask me why. I secretly think he's in the closet. Not that I'm one to judge, though. Because I've totally been there before."

Liam chuckles and one of his roommates walks past, opening the door and yelps in surprise when he bumps into someone. When they hear a quiet "oops, sorry" on the other end, Louis' stomach full of carbonation and processed sugar suddenly churns in a nauseating way. He slowly lowers his drink from his mouth.

Marcel pokes his head in the doorway and knocks feebly. "Um, can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure." Liam says, and Marcel shuffles in the room. He's wearing a new shirt that Louis hasn't seen before but he's sure those are the same pants and shoes he's been wearing since he got here. Not that he's been paying attention.

"Good morning Marcel." Liam says. He smiles at Liam and then looks to Louis.

"Hi." He says.

"Hi to you too." Louis replies.

There's a long silence and Liam glances between the two before setting his gaze on Marcel. "What's up?"

"Oh, um," Marcel's voice squeaks as he struggles to find a piece of paper in his back pocket. He finally pulls it out and unfolds it. "I have to see one of my professors but I don't know where this room is, it's not where any of my classes are."

Marcel hands the paper to Louis and Liam casts a knowing glance to both of them though neither of them sees it. Louis reads over the paper.

"It's your first week of school and you're already a straight A student and _now_ you're becoming a teachers aid?" He scoffs. "Wow, thanks for making me feel inadequate."

Marcel smiles sympathetically and takes the paper back. "Sorry, I don't mean to. I just figured I could put my spare time to use rather than being alone in my dorm."

"Well we literally do nothing all day, you can always just drop by." Liam says. Marcel shakes his head.

"No, I don't want to be annoying." Before the two have time to speak, Marcel continues. "But anyway, I was hoping either one of you could show me where it is? I have to be there in five minutes and I don't want to be late."

"I will," Louis says without fully thinking. When he catches the suggestive eyebrows Liam is throwing him he backtracks. "Er, I mean, unless you wanted Liam to, because you came here and not the house."

"No, no, go ahead Louis, I actually have to clean up in here. It's gotten a little messy." He gives Louis a look and then looks to Marcel. "If that's alright."

"Of course it is." He says, and then looks to Louis. "Are you ready?"

"Y-Yeah!" Louis sets his liter of Mountain Dew on the coffee table and springs to his feet. "Let me see that paper again."

By the time Marcel hands it to Louis he's already halfway out the door. "Bye Liam, sorry about my mess!"

"It's fine." He laughs, and after Marcel is out of the door Louis pokes his head back in the room.

"Oh, and will you put that in the fridge for me? Make sure no one drinks it, thanks!" He shuts the door and Liam chuckles, shaking his head.

The two are already so obvious, it's comical to see them interact. Liam is getting a kick out seeing Louis try to act cool and Marcel act like he's not worshiping the ground Louis' treads on. Liam just hopes Louis doesn't let his pride get in the way and ruin it.

They make their way down the stairwell and Louis remembers that he left his skateboard at Liam's. He'll have to remember to get that later along with his drink. He actually had been planning on going to the skate park today but that could wait. Right now Marcel was at the top of his priority list.

"Nice get up," Marcel says, and Louis looks at himself up and down. He can't tell if Marcel is saying that sarcastically or jiving at the fact that if Louis were to get a boner it'd be blatantly obvious. He decides to go for the first option.

"Yeah, bit of a hectic morning at the house. I had to change three times." He says, keeping the paper in his grasp. He knows where the room is; it's just every time he looks at Marcel he seems to forget and has to remind himself. Marcel raises an eyebrow.

"Wow, I don't think I'd make it in a fraternity."

Louis forces a chuckle. "You have no idea." He looks back down at the paper then back to Marcel. "So who are you going to be a teacher's aid for? I didn't even know they existed in college."

Marcel smiles sheepishly. "It doesn't, I kind of asked the biology teacher if I could be his assistant. I want to get ahead as much as I can so I don't fall behind."

Louis gives him a look. "Marcel, you're already younger than half of the people at this campus, I'm pretty sure you're not behind."

Marcel shrugs. "I'd rather be ahead in case something happens, like I get severe head trauma or get paralyzed from the waist down."

Louis gives him a strange look. "That's pretty morbid."

Marcel grins. "I guess I'm just prepared?"

Louis scoffs. "For something that'll never happen."

They enter the school and Louis has to look at the paper again. It's in the West Wing and they're right smack in the middle, hopefully the professor doesn't mind if Marcel is a few seconds late.

When they get to the room, they see it's just a faculty room for the teachers who reside in this hall. Louis gives Marcel the paper and tells him he'll wait for him, and Marcel gives him a doubtful look before walking in. Louis watches from the doorway as he introduces himself in such a professional manner that he almost seems like a completely different person. It's captivating, to say the least, and Louis can't take his eyes off of him. The way he gestures with his hands and speaks with such confidence, it's not something he usually sees in Marcel. Especially yesterday, he was a wreck. The stark difference between the Marcel yesterday and the Marcel today is astounding.

Fifteen minutes later and Louis is propped against the wall when Marcel comes back out and firmly shakes the professor's hand. He walks off and Marcel turns to Louis, looking slightly surprised.

"You actually stayed."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? I have nothing better to do."

Marcel blinks and Louis hopes he didn't take that offensively. It's true, but also because Louis needs to spend as much time with Marcel as humanly possible if he wants to make it in a month. He only has a few weeks left and so far it's not going too shabby, but Louis can't jinx it quite yet.

They're walking through the halls chatting when Louis hears two distinct voices rounding the corner. He stops mid-step. It's Gavin and Blake; Louis will be damned if he's caught with Marcel. He's purposely kept him away from the house to avoid being scorned against or one of the boys spilling the bet. Shit, shit, and triple shit, they have to get out of here.

"Louis?"

Louis doesn't hear him. He's too busy trying to find an exit or a classroom to duck into but is seeing nothing. Finally his eye catches a cracked door to a janitor's closet and yanks Marcel by the wrist in the room and slams the door. He can hear their breaths as he presses his ear against the door, hearing the two voices come closer.

"Louis," Marcel says again, "what are we doing?" Louis quickly slaps a hand to Marcel's mouth, which ends up being his glasses but close enough. He can't have Gavin and Blake hear them or it'd be the end of everything. Gavin won't hesitate to interrogate Marcel until he knows every last detail down to his great aunts cousins dads deceased dog's name.

"Playing hide and seek, what do you think?" Louis hisses. He keeps his hand pressed to Marcel's mouth as he leans against the door. Gavin and Blake's voices are gone. He lets out a relieved sigh and his hand drops to his side.

"Can you tell me now?" Marcel asks, clearly amused, and Louis wants to poke his eyes out. He glares instead even though he can't see in the dark.

"Hiding."

"From who?"

"A few of the boys from the house." He says, still listening acutely through the door just in case. "I can't be seen with you."

Shit, that came out wrong. If he were able to see Marcel's expression he'd probably look like a puppy kicked out into the rain. He quickly backpedals.

"God–no, that's not what I meant. That came out wrong."

"No, it's okay, Louis. I get it." Marcel says, and the inflection in his tone isn't good, "you can't be seen with someone like me because of your fraternity, I get it."

"No, that's not it," Louis says, groping the walls for a light switch. Damnit, why are janitors closets always so crowded? He's able to make out shapes but he still can't clearly see Marcel's face. He has to come up with a believable excuse as to not send Marcel into a personal pity party. "It-It was Gavin and Blake, two of the most annoying ones in the house and Gavin was actually one of the reasons for me changing my clothes this morning. If they saw you they'd try to recruit you until you finally caved. They did it with Liam." Well, he isn't lying completely.

Marcel stays silent and Louis hates that he can't see his expression.

"Oh," He finally says, and Louis feels his shoulders relax. Marcel isn't angry with him, thank every deity in existence, but he still doesn't sound pleased. "Is there a reason why I wouldn't want to be part of it?"

"So many you have no idea." Louis says. Marcel doesn't seem to be aware of the requirement to get into their fraternity is to have had sex, but after all ignorance is bliss. "Just trust me."

Louis gives up looking for a light and instead goes for the door handle. It turns out, there isn't one, and he immediately freezes.

"Louis," Marcel says, noticing the sudden silence, "what's wrong?"

Oh no. Oh no no no no this cannot be happening. Louis cannot be living a cliché romance novel with Marcel, the one he's supposed to be using for sex, it just can't be happening. This is the worst possible thing that karma could do to him. What did he ever do to deserve this? He hastily feels the other side of the door. Nothing.

"Um," Louis says hesitantly, "we may be locked in. It's just a guess though, not for certain!"

Marcel is quiet and Louis thinks he's mad until he feels Marcel pressing against Louis' chest, sliding his hands across the door. When he feels nothing, he stops.

"We're locked in."

Louis scoffs indignantly. "We're not locked _in_ , we're locked out from the hall. There's a difference." He's trying to lighten the mood but it doesn't seem to be working. He's suddenly aware of how close him and Marcel actually are; the janitor's closet has to be about a width of seventh feet but with all the shelves and items stacked against the wall there's really only enough space for one person to fit through. Louis can feel Marcel's breath tickling his forehead and his torso pressed against his chest. Definitely closer than they'd normally be.

Neither of them speak, and Louis isn't even sure what Marcel is thinking, but he thinks of a Plan B before he can find out.

He pulls out his phone and the bright screen burns his retinas. He's finally able to see the shadows casted across Marcel's face. He looks slightly mortified mixed with a bit of disgust, probably having to be in such close proximity with Louis. Louis doesn't blame him, he'd probably react the same way if he had to be stuck in a closet with himself too.

Louis dials Liam and puts the phone to his ear. It rings for an excruciatingly long amount of time before it goes to voicemail, which, what the fuck. He always answers.

"Who was that?" Marcel asks, and Louis doesn't dare look up or he'll be directly faced with Marcel's lips and he's not sure he can handle that right now.

"Liam." He says curtly and dials Niall. The one time Liam doesn't answer his phone is the one time Louis actually needs him. The irony is killing him.

Niall's phone goes straight to voicemail too and Louis dubs this as his unlucky day. He doesn't dare call any of the other boys in the house or he'll never hear the end of it. He could always call Jasper or Chad, but he doesn't really want to put up with their smart-ass comments the rest of his life, and he's not about to start banging on the door until someone hears them. So he goes for Plan C.

He turns up his brightness and shines it around the closet, blinding him and Marcel a few times, before spotting something that catches his eye. It's a ladder that goes at a ninety-degree angle up into the ceiling. He's never heard of an attic being in this school so this automatically piques his curiosity.

"Louis, what are you doing?" Marcel asks, and his voice sounds a little gruff and Louis wonders if he needs a drink of water. He shimmies past Marcel and shines his phone upwards, seeing nothing but black. He grins and looks at Marcel. His eyes widen in horror.

"No, there is _no_ way I'm climbing up that."

"Oh, come on, we're stuck in here anyway, might as well make the most of it." Louis fastens his feet on the first rung and adjusts his phone so he can still see above him.

"What if it breaks?" Marcel whines.

"Then my dear Marcel, we get a broken bone." Louis says. He goes step by step higher up the ladder until he reaches the top. There's a board he pushes against and he cringes as sawdust falls in his eyes. He splutters it out of his mouth and moves it to the side, poking his head through the hole. He shines his phone around and climbs up the rest of the way, peering back down.

"Come on Marcel!"

Louis hears a whine before he gets on the ladder and climbs up slower than a grandma walking up the stairs. Louis absentmindedly checks his phone until Marcel reaches the top and stops, paralyzed.

"You're not afraid of heights are you?" Louis asks, and takes Marcel's silence as a yes. He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out for Marcel. Once he takes it, Louis heaves him up and lets go once he's firmly sat next to him.

"See, that wasn't so bad." He says, and Marcel gives him a weak glare. Louis stands up and walks around, shining his phone around. His footsteps echo softly on the cement floor as he looks around. There's streams of light coming from the other side where the ceiling meets the wall and he wanders off a distance before he runs into a wall. He immediately looks for a light switch.

"This is really creepy." Marcel says, still sat on the floor where Louis left him.

"Oh calm down, it's not like anyone is up here anyway." Louis finds a panel of light switches and turns them on all at once. The lights go a dim blue before exploding and they have to shield their eyes as the darkness dissipates. Louis lowers his arms and his mouth drops in awe.

It's a large room, definitely bigger than the entire square feet of the fraternity. It appears to be a storage room judging by the multiple boxes stacked on top of each other and the couches, desks, and mattresses propped against the wall. There's another ladder that creates a half circle and goes up about twenty feet into the next ceiling above them. Louis, quite frankly, is taken aback because in all his years of being at this school he's never known this place existed.

"What is this place?" Marcel asks from his place on the floor. Louis is still looking around.

"No idea." He breathes, walking to the very left corner where there's a long dark hall that progressively becomes more eerie the longer he stares. He shudders and prances away from it back towards Marcel, eyeing the crescent moon shaped ladder curiously.

"Did you ever know about this place?" Marcel asks. Louis shakes his head.

"Nope." He sets his foot on the first rung and tests the stability of it before climbing up. Marcel scrambles to his feet and stands at the bottom of the ladder while Louis tries not to think that his arse is currently being stared at. He can't help but smirk.

When he reaches the top the ceiling appears closed but he can still see a faint box outline around the ladder. He doesn't dare look down in fear that his natural flight reaction will kick in and he'll cling to the ladder until he begs Marcel to come and save him. He won't submit himself to that kind of humiliation so he keeps his gaze fixated on the ceiling. Obviously this ladder leads somewhere if it goes through the ceiling, it's just natural physics.

"What are you doing?" Marcel calls up at him. Louis doesn't look down.

"Seeing what's up here." His voice bounces off the walls and he swallows the hollow feeling in his throat. Everything is so much scarier when he's by himself twenty feet in the air standing as if there was no where else to go. If he were to slip his landing wouldn't be pretty; he'd either land flat on the cement or hope that Marcel would break his fall, either option wouldn't have positive repercussions.

"Lou, please come back down, I don't want you to fall!" Marcel says, and under different circumstances Louis would be fawning over the nickname and take Marcel on that mattress in the far right corner, but right now he was too busy trying to figure out what the ladder led to. If Marcel would stop nagging at him then maybe he could focus for longer than three and a half seconds and get this over with.

He pushed against it with his hand and it doesn't budge. He tries hitting it harder. Still nothing.

Louis steps up one more rung so he's bent over and his shoulder is pressing firmly against the ceiling. He hooks one arm around the side and readies himself before thrusting upward. His shoulder hits the ceiling but it doesn't move. He growls and does it again, this time hearing a crack.

Smiling triumphantly, Louis readjusts himself before pushing upward one more time. At that exact moment, his foot slips and he yelps. He distinctly hears Marcel calling his name as he falls, catches himself on the ladder in the crevice of his elbow. He wraps his legs around it tightly and can feel his heart pulsing through every vein.

Louis shakily looks down to Marcel. Judging by his expression, he's going to have post-traumatic stress disorder after this.

"I got it." He calls weakly. Marcel huffs loudly.

"You almost fell!"

"But I didn't!" He says, more sarcastically than anything. His brain is on overdrive and his legs refuse to let go of the ladder. He can see a stream of light coming through a crack and he knows he's broken through the hatch. Slowly, he detaches his legs from the side and sets his feet back on the rungs. He keeps his elbow wrapped around as he pushes the hatch with his other hand. He squints as light blinds him and he shoves the top up.

Louis quickly scrambles up through the hole and falls onto the surface. He's breathing heavily and he can hear birds chirping. There's a breeze rolling through his clothes and the sun is beating down on his face. He shades his eyes with his hand and looks around and then hesitantly peers down the ladder. He can't see Marcel.

"Are you coming?" He asks.

There's no answer, but he hears an echo coming from the ladder so he assumes Marcel is climbing up. Louis backs away from the hole and soon a head pops up. Marcel narrows his eyes as the sunlight blinds him and Louis offers a hand. Marcel takes it and Louis hoists him to the ground.

Marcel grunts as he gains his balance. Their hands are still in a firm grip as their eyes sweep across their surroundings. They're on the roof.

"Wow." Louis says, and pulls Marcel to the edge. They can see across the entire campus and even beyond that. They see the distant city and the skyscrapers and the cars moving along the roads while pedestrians stroll on the sidewalks, shopping bag or cell phone in hand, all doing their own thing and living their own life. Louis subconsciously scoots closer to Marcel, setting his other hand on Marcel's forearm.

"It's beautiful." He says. Marcel glances at them then back to the view and nods.

There's a long silence between them. It's not awkward like it usually is; it's peaceful, and Louis can feel Marcel's pulse. He's calm and comfortable. Neither of them feel inclined to fill the silence with small talk or stupid jokes they heard around campus, they're too busy being sucked into the view, though there's a burning feeling in the pit of Louis' stomach that's making it less enjoyable than it should be. He unknowingly clenches his hand around Marcel's arm, worrying that he might slip through his grip if he doesn't hold on tight.

Louis feels a shift in Marcel's breathing and looks at him. His gaze is still fixated on the horizon and Louis looks down at their intertwined hands. They fit together perfectly; Louis' small hand in Marcel's protective grasp. It's like it was meant to be.

"Do you ever wish you could go back to the way things were before that _one_ thing happened and changed your life forever?"

Louis looks at him evenly. Marcel's expression is solemn, almost melancholy. He tightens his grip on Louis' hand as a gentle breeze blows by. Louis licks his lips and looks to the ground.

The silence is broken when Louis' cell phone rings in his back pocket, breaking both of them out of their trances. Louis clears his throat.

"Ehm," He regretfully tugs his hand out of Marcel's and fumbles to pull his phone out. He looks at the caller ID and internally sighs. "Hey, Liam."

 _"Sorry I just saw you called me! I was talking with Niall–"_ He pauses then suspiciously lowers his voice. _"Are you still with Marcel?"_

"Yes, actually, and we got ourselves in quite a predicament." Louis glances at Marcel but finds he's already wandered away from the edge, roaming around the rest of the roof and examining air filters and kicking around gravel. A smile graces Louis' lips.

_"What kind of predicament?"_

"Let's just say we got locked in a janitor's closet and ended up on the roof," He says, "can you come get us out?"

There's a pause before Liam breaks out into laughter. Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, he should've expected as much. Liam somehow always manages to laugh at every situation Louis finds himself in, even the worst ones. Though, Louis can't say this current predicament him and Marcel are in is bad at all, rather, he's liked having alone time with him. They have each other's undivided attention and regardless if Marcel gives him a verbal answer or not a lot is revealed when he thinks Louis isn't watching. The way his eyes glaze over and his fingers intertwine, the look on his face when he gets lost deep in thought. Louis has learned that Marcel isn't as dense as he's made himself out to be. He's actually very introspective.

 _"I can't believe you two. Niall will get a riot out of this."_ Liam laughs, breaking him out of his reverie. _"Which part of the building?"_

"English hall. You'll see us on the roof when you come to the main entrance." Louis scans the campus below. He sees some students he knows but they haven't spotted him. He guesses it's not typical for anyone to get on the roof so no one thinks to look up here.

 _"Okay I'll be there soon."_ He hangs up and Louis can only imagine he stops to fully intake the situation then keels over on his couch in fits of laughter. He's never going to let Louis live this one down.

By the time Louis puts his phone back in his pocket Marcel is still shuffling around gravel. It suddenly makes sense why there are always small pebbles scattered across the sidewalk after a rainstorm because since all that was down there is grass and cement, the pebbles had come from the roof. Louis feels like he just discovered how to conduct electricity all over again.

Louis approaches Marcel slowly. "I've never seen you this quiet." He says.

Marcel gives a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, well, it's one of those days."

Louis isn't quite sure what his definition of 'one of those days' means, because for Louis it means staying in bed eating chocolate covered craisins torrenting _Keeping Up With The Kardashins_ off of Chris' laptop then getting him in trouble with his internet provider and having Liam read him online sonnets at bedtime over the phone. That's just for Louis though, so Marcel has to elaborate.

"Care to explain?"

Marcel sits down and Louis joins him. Their knees are touching and they engage by having pebble wars, putting some in the middle and seeing who can find a bigger pebble to knock it over. Once they get bored of that, they start stacking the gravel on top of each other to make a castle. Marcel finds a leaf and sticks it in the middle, making both of them grin.

"Just when you're thinking about life and all your choices and how you got to where you are today." He says, and that's way too expansive for Louis' brain but he does his best to keep up. "It's not like I've done lots I regret in my life but there are a few things."

"Like what?" Louis can't help but ask. Marcel keeps dragging him along in this wave of mystery then cuts him off like a string on an old piece of clothing. For once, Louis just wants a real answer.

Marcel laces his fingers together, his brows knitted together. He suddenly looks up at Louis with a burning gaze. "Meeting you definitely wasn't one of them."

And that's when the air between them changes. The cool breeze that was blowing through their hair suddenly stops, the gravel isn't so bumpy, the sun isn't so bright, the feeling of guilt in Louis' stomach isn't so prominent, the beating in his heart his faster, louder, harder, and Louis doesn't know how much more of it he can take. The look in Marcel's eyes is too intimate for Louis to even fathom yet he can't look away.

Either the universe if pushing them together or they're gravitating towards each other, but Louis soon finds his hand on Marcel's thigh. It's as if their skin contact is creating a blister yet Louis can't pull away from the touch.

"Do you..." Louis speaks, though when it comes out it's hardly audible. Marcel's enamoring eyes flick up to his and the colors clash together. Before, Louis had never noticed the way Marcel's eyebrows hardly had a curve or the way his lips always curled into a natural smile or the shape of his eyes as they crinkled when he laughed or the way his forehead scrunched when worrying or the way his eyes always held some deep, unspoken emotion. Not until now, when they were the only two people up on a roof they weren't allowed on in the first place and their lips were only inches from meeting.

Louis wonders if this is what it feels like to be in heaven, light as a feather but not sure of the outcome. He wonders why someone like Marcel would give someone like Louis the time of day when his intentions are less than pure. He wonders if the suffocating knot in his throat will go away if they just get it over with.

He wonders when his life suddenly seemed like it was slowly getting better.

**XxX**

 

 

 


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented! Let me know if you have any questions or concerns :)

_The following Sunday, they’re both sitting in their respective rooms on the phone, silent tears dropping down their cheeks.  
_

_“I don’t want this.” She cries._

_He stares at his ceiling with his hurting heart. “I know.”_

**XxX**

_Same Day_

Louis and Marcel are leaning over their rock pile, short breaths but keeping eye contact. His head is throbbing, and it’s as if the moment they close their eyes it will become real and Louis isn't sure if he can handle that. Marcel's eyelids slowly close but he's hesitating, it's apparent the way his head is tilted to the ground. What does he have to be so scared of? Louis has more to lose than he does. This has already gone too far and Louis has a hard time admitting that he actually likes Marcel more than he have ever allowed himself to.

He's supposed to get Marcel in bed and fuck him with no remorse, yet somewhere along the line something changed. So what happened? Why is Louis hesitating? Marcel should mean nothing to him. He should be rendered useless with his terrible fashion sense and boring personality and awkward social skills but kind nature and gentle smile and big glasses and salacious lips and unnatural ability to make Louis laugh. Good fucking hell.

Louis’ phone suddenly rings again, and he can't hold back the growl that leaves his throat and he answers irritably. "What?"

_"I'm outside mate, I don't see where ya are!"_

Niall fucking Horan. At least Liam isn’t the one cock blocking him but for fucks sake Niall couldn't have waited twenty more seconds?

"Hold on," Louis says, the disdain still obvious in his voice. Marcel is silent as Louis gets up and walks over to the edge and sees Niall, Liam, and a janitor on the sidewalk below facing the opposite way. "Turn around you douche."

Niall does and immediately spots Louis. He waves. _"Aye, you weren't lying! We'll be there in a second."_

Louis hangs up and when he turns around, jumps. Marcel holds his hands out cautiously.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!"

"I could've fallen off this roof dumbass." Louis says, hitting Marcel. "If I fall you fall with me."

Marcel smiles. "So like Titanic?"

Louis blinks. "Never seen it but sure."

Marcel is appalled. "Are you serious?"

How were they about to kiss half a minute ago now they're talking about Titanic? Niall better fucking hurry up if he wants Louis to keep up his side of the bet.

"Yes. Now lets go, it's getting hot up here." Louis says.

He goes back to the hole and grasps the top of the ladder before securing his feet on the rungs. He climbs down a few then pokes his head back up. "Close this on your way down," He gestures to the hatch. He'd laugh if they forget to close it and the next time a heavy rainstorm hits it floods the entire English hall. It would be the best day of his life.

Marcel nods and Louis climbs down the ladder as quick as he possibly can. Minutes ago he was gravitating towards Marcel and now he wants to zoom as far away from him as soon as possible into a different universe. It feels like they're the same side of a magnet, always going to repel no matter how hard someone tries to push them together. Louis is forcing himself to be the same side of the magnet so it's easier to push himself away from Marcel.

He can't do it, he can't hold up his end of the bet. He can't keep pretending like there are no feelings there when there blatantly are. He has to tell Niall he's quitting before Marcel is ruined. It's only been a week and Louis can't go through with it. He's such a coward.

Louis is waiting for Marcel to finish climbing down the ladder when he misjudges his step and slips down the last few. Louis' first instinct is to catch him, and Marcel lets out a relieved breath and sends him a grateful look.

"Thanks." He says sheepishly, and there's that look in his eye again that's so intimately deep that wants to send Louis screaming for the hills. Louis' hand is still holding Marcel's arm as if he'd slip away any second. Neither of them are moving, and Louis is waiting for Marcel to say something, or do anything, because he'll be damned if he's putting himself out on a ledge here only to be humiliated later on.

Louis is very aware that Niall, Liam and the janitor are waiting for them down twenty-three more rungs, but staring at Marcel pressed against the crescent shaped ladder alone in a large storage room atop of their school in the midst of a stupid bet Louis can feel his magnet side switching again. Every time he goes to turn it off it comes right back on and reminds him of how pathetic and cowardly he is. Life before the frat house was easier, life before he discovered drugs was easier, life before moving to college was easier, life before Marcel was easier.

"Louis," Marcel says quietly, "can you...?"

Louis is brought back to the present. Can he what? Can Louis get the fuck out of the way? Can they just kiss and get it over with? Can they never see each other again because it's too painful to look in Marcel's eyes and only see in the reflection of his black pupils a pathetic person? Louis has to stop thinking before he's driven mad. Time seems to be ticking by twice as slow as Louis' heart pounds in his chest.

Louis can't let these feelings continue. He has to do it. He has to get it over with so his guilty conscious will be ridden for good. The two sides of him are yelling and screaming against each other all while he looks at Marcel. Sweet, innocent, kind, Marcel, and Louis is going to fuck it all up. All because he’s too prideful to admit defeat.

"Can I what?" Louis hears himself asking. It's like he's having an out of body experience, watching himself from the air have all this internal conflict while Marcel stares at him like a love-sick fool.

Marcel glances down then back up at Louis' gaze. Louis leans forward and he's surprised how they're not touching yet they're impossibly close. He can clearly smell Marcel's discount Wal-Mart shampoo and the scent that is unique and only Marcel.

"Will you regret this?" Marcel asks softly. Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes, Louis chants in his mind, but he made a bet, and Louis Tomlinson does not lose bets.

"No." He says.

There was a gap and then there isn’t. Their lips are pressed together, Louis' hands still fisted on the sides of the ladder, Marcel's arms hanging uselessly by his side, and it’s all too real. It's awkward and strange, since Louis has only kissed a total of two people in his life – discounting all the stupid girls at the club – and he doubts Marcel has ever kissed a boy, but there's still a fiery passion behind it. Marcel hesitantly brings his hands to Louis' hips before bringing them closer. Louis hooks his fingers behind Marcel's neck, pulling their torsos closer. He pushes Marcel flat against the ladder, aligning their hips and pushing forward. There's a hitch in the back of Marcel's throat and all Louis can think is _yes, yes, this is good, I'm one step closer._

They pull away with a smack at the same time, heaving for air and not quite sure what just happened. The knot in Louis' throat is gone but it's melted down to his stomach in a whirl of butterflies.

Marcel blinks and slowly lets his hands fall down from Louis' hips. They're both staring at each other blankly like the other is on fire and there's nothing they can do but watch. Louis finally has the audacity to tear his gaze to the ground and he takes a few steps back, clearing his throat.

"Um...I, uh," He needs to shut his mouth before he says something stupid or cliché. What's a good line after a first kiss? 'You were good'? 'Lets do that again'? 'Can I fuck you now'? Louis’ brain is on overdrive and the next thing that happens is something he never would have expected in his whole twenty-two years of living.

He giggles. He fucking giggles.

He's completely lost it. His life has always been spiraling down. Never up, only down. First lying about sex to get into a fraternity then making a bet to have sex so he can stay in said fraternity. And now he's had his first kiss with the person he's targeted to fuck and he's giggling. Why, is the only thing he can ask, why.

Marcel covers his mouth and it's clear by the shape of his eyes that he's smiling. "That good, huh?"

Louis promptly stops giggling and slaps his arm. "Don't be a cheeky bastard. I’m trying not to freak out."

Oh shit, Louis' brain is on defense mode making him clearly vulnerable to spill private information to lighten the current situation. He needs to shut up before he admits he's slept with his stuffed husky named Snowy since he was five and even brought it to college with him. Not even Niall knows that humiliating tidbit and they’ve slept in the same room for three years. Louis hides Snowy under his pillow.

Marcel raises an eyebrow. "What for? I'm not that scary, am I?"

Marcel is playing up the cheeky bastard role quite well and if he doesn't stop Louis is going to throw him in an oven and set it for 350. Maybe if he shoves his mouth full of stuffing he'll stop talking for five seconds and let Louis gather his composure.

Louis scoffs. "You wish. Come on, they're waiting for us." He turns on his heel, leaving Marcel disappointed but he doesn't give a fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated by the way the room seems a little bit brighter and his blood pressure is a tiny bit higher, but it doesn’t matter. None of this should; Marcel is nothing to Louis. When Louis gets back to the house he needs a good violent movie and Coco Pops to calm his raging hormones that shouldn’t even exist in the first place. Then he can calmly recollect his plan and go from there.

Louis feels like a teenage girl going through puberty.

They climb down the ladder where Liam, Niall and the janitor are waiting. Louis is the first to get out of the closet, hoping he doesn't look too mortified. Marcel follows and the janitor closes the door.

"So how'd you end up in there exactly?" Liam asks, and Louis doesn't have time to go through every small detail.

"Long story short I saw Gavin and Seth and didn't want to talk to them." Louis says, and it's not completely a lie. He really needs Snowy and a box of red velvet Oreos if he's going to get through this night alive. Damnit. Damnit all.

Liam and Niall give him an unconvinced look.

"So I never got to ask, are you feeling better?” Marcel asks Liam, and the way his voice is dripping with the previous event makes Louis want to rip out his voice box and ship it to the black market in Mexico. It's smug and Louis doesn’t like it. In all honesty, Louis never knew Marcel had it in him to be passive-aggressive. All he’s ever known Marcel for is stuttering, a high voice, and bad fashion.

"O-Oh," Liam glances at Louis, "yeah, I am."

"Okay, I was just wondering." Marcel looks at Louis then back at Liam. When the time comes Louis is fucking him until he's completely wrecked and can't walk the next day, that's guaranteed. Hickeys, bruises, sore muscles, all of it. Payback for his arrogant little attitude.

"Hey, Lou, I think we had to go plan for the party tonight. Can we go make sure so Nick doesn't skin us alive if we miss it?" Niall asks, and for once Louis doesn't want to chop off his head. He actually wants to kiss him and let him binge on his Coco Pops for months. Niall is a savior.

"Oh, right." Louis looks at the clock hanging on the wall above one of the English classrooms. The hands are broken and have fallen to the bottom of the clock, but details. Louis can lie about not knowing the time later. "Yeah, we should get back. Liam, you can stay with Marcel if you want." He glances at Marcel, who looks completely offended, which, good, he deserves it the little shit. "See you!"

He wraps his arm around Niall's and they stroll down the hall. It takes all of five seconds for them to walk outside before Louis crumples onto the ground in a fetal position, resisting the urge to scream until his voice breaks.

"I am so fucked," Louis tugs at his hair, "I'm fucking fucked fucking Niall I'm in deep shit holy fuck."

And Niall, bless his demonic dyed blond head, starts cackling, and Louis wants to wither away into a Mitochondria cell.

"Let me guess, you guys kissed?"

Louis lets out a strangled "yes" that sounds more like a banshee. He buries his head in his hands and takes a deep breath. _Get ahold of yourself, Tommo,_ his brain yells at him, _you're Louis fucking Tomlinson, not a teenage girl with a crush! Man up, you pussy._

He stands erect, fully composed and mask put in place. He is calm, he is collected, he is seduction, and he's one step closer to fucking Marcel. That's all Niall needs to know, nothing more, nothing less.

"I’m sorry, it was just so terrible I had to keep myself together until we got away!" He laughs and Niall slaps him on the back.

"God, I feel so sorry for you, he doesn't even look like he's a good kisser!"

"Ugh." Louis rolls his eyes. He's such a liar. He truly hates himself. "Tell me about it. I literally couldn't stand it for more than a second I felt like I was going to puke."

Niall chortles and they head back to the house. On the way, Niall gives him an elaborate plan to get to second base and Louis listens disinterested but acts like he is. It has something to do with inviting Marcel to the party tonight and locking him in the closet, and then Louis saves him and then they do it. It’s a horrible plan, honestly. Louis doesn’t understand how Niall ever solves life problems logically.

Once they get to the house, Louis locks himself in the bathroom, free from all scrutiny and curious eyes, grips the edges of the counter, looks at himself in the mirror, and screams.

Following his scream of mass murder, a hoard of footsteps trample towards the bathroom door. "Louis? Louis, are you alright?" It’s Axel; bless his soul for actually caring that Louis might possibly be taking his last dying breaths. There are other boys on the other side of the door, too, Louis is sure of it, but at least Axel has the heart to ask about Louis’ wellbeing. Louis could cry tears of joy.

"Spider, it's just a spider, everything's fine!" He says, even though he's lying and everything is clearly _not_ fine. Marcel is not a spider, he's a demon sent from the netherworld to torture Louis into the nonexistent tenth ring of hell.

Yeah, the kiss was awkward, but that's only because Louis has never kissed a boy before. Other than that small detail, it was fucking fantastic. Louis wants to hang that kiss in the hall of fame. He wants to frame it and show it off at the Grammy's. He wants to flaunt it on national television on a sign saying, "I kissed him bitches he's mine!" in sparkly gold glitter. He wants to fly to the other side of the world just to tell the leader of the country "Marcel and I kissed" then proceed to drown himself in the Dead Sea.

Louis turns on the shower and wanks furiously, his hormones too overwhelming to ignore. He doesn't care how loud he is, he just needs to get rid of the raging boner that's been confined in his pants for a whole week and three days. He feels like he deserves an award for how patient he was. A whole week, now _that's_ something to flaunt about. Usually people won't kiss until they've known each other for a while but in just a week Louis has managed to lock lips with Marcel soon to suck his Cox.

His life is so pitiful.

Louis shows up at Albertson's in sweat pants tucked inside a pair of Ugg boots he stole from his little sister months before he moved out, a beanie, and a hoodie that clearly shouts "I'm a raging mess" to the world. Before he was able to escape, he had to dodge every question Niall threw his way about the party, such as if he's even going or if he's bringing Marcel to execute that horribly planned closet-kidnapping, which Marcel is the _last_ person Louis wants to see right now so it was a clearly defined "no". Louis wants his violent movie night free from substance abuse and people he's being peer pressured into fucking an innocent passerby, thank you.

He's searching for the red velvet Oreos he was craving earlier since he'll need them, because what's a violent movie night underneath his covers with Snowy if there aren’t crumbs everywhere in the morning along with three cavities? It's nothing, so Louis gets four packs of them and dumps them on the conveyor belt. He can tell the little blonde cashier is dying to make a comment, so Louis does for her to relieve her itching sensation.

"Rough night." He says, and she smiles sympathetically.

"Break up?" She asks, scanning the items.

"You could say that." More like the opposite, he just kissed the boy he's supposed to hate and only want for sexual desires but actually likes. He'd rather take a break up than the emotional turmoil he's facing as of this current moment. And his dick hurts from going too hard in the shower, he needs to be more careful next time.

"Oh, well I'm sorry. I hope things get better." She smiles, and Louis suddenly gets a great idea in his post-wank haze and raging desire.

"Are you single?" He asks, and she looks rather taken aback. She glances around as if Louis were talking to someone else. He looks at her nametag. Stefani. Her name is Stefani.

"Yes, I am." Stefani says, holding back a giggle, "but I don't think you're in a state to be thinking about another relationship _quite_ yet. Maybe give it a few months."

Louis frowns. Fucking Stefani, usually girls would be all over his flaccid dick by now. Maybe it's the hoodie he's wearing; it repels girls instead of attracting them. He inconspicuously smells his shoulder. It smells fine, so maybe it's the way he's dressed. He does look like a white girl in winter after all; all he needs now is three pounds of makeup and a coffee in hand to call it good.

"Okay, well I'm Louis Tomlinson, and I just go to school at the nearby college." He says, because why the hell not?

Stefani smiles. “Stefani, as you can see by my nametag.” She pulls out a paper and pen, scribbles something down then hands it to Louis. It's her number.

"If you need a friend just shoot me a text." She says sweetly, then turns her attention to the next person in line. Louis stands there like a black sheep in a flock of white sheep before turning on his heel and walking out. What is it with Albertsons and always meeting new people? He swears whenever he walks into the store he's in some new dimension.

Six and a half hours later he's through one pack of Oreos and just ripping open his second. He decided to watch the Saw saga to distract him from any type of sexual thought that might pass through his frontal cortex unless it involved a chainsaw kink and using severed arms as dildos. He shudders at the thought.

It's about three in the morning and he's just starting the fourth movie. His stuffed animal Snowy is cuddled next to him as he has his soundproof headphones on just so Niall or any of the other boys in the house won't wake up to the sound of screaming women getting their limbs chopped off even if they’re drunk off their asses and passed out on the floor.

He can't recall the last time he binge watched a series; on a really bad day he'll pull up Netflix and watch Pretty Little Liars and curse the day Toby and Emily don’t get together but cry when him and Spencer finally do. A game of Scrabble in a hotel room alone chasing a serial killer is the leading number one cause of sexual tension, so says proven statistics in the show.

Louis pauses his excessively violent movie to ponder his life. He knows when it really started to spin out of control, but was there something before that? What possessed him to come to this college specifically, and why befriend Niall of all people? Back in high school Niall was loud and obnoxious, a lot like Louis but in a different way. Louis was actually funny whereas Niall was just plain loud. If someone made him laugh the people on the other side of the school could hear him. Even in the midst of the loud cafeteria during lunch everyone always knew when Niall was laughing. So how did they become friends again?

Not wanting to dwell on the past, Louis shuts his laptop and flips the covers to his lap. His room is eerily silent when he takes his headphones off – given the sound of Niall's drunken snores – and he suddenly realizes it was probably a bad idea to watch scary movies in the middle of the night with the possibility of his drunken housemates walking around like zombies. Sometimes he doesn't think things through all the way. Oh well, at least he knows most of it is fake, so he can't get too scared. He's desensitized to half of it anyway.

Clutching Snowy to his chest, Louis slowly shuffles downstairs. It’s not as dark in the house since the blinds aren't drawn closed, so the waning moon shines through the windowpanes. He admires the view for a split moment before heading to the kitchen.

The light from the fridge makes Louis squint, and he pulls out the milk then goes to the cupboard for his Coco Pops. He pours himself a bowl of cereal lets it sit in the milk for a second before taking a bite. He pulls up Candy Crush on his phone and it takes a whole fifteen minutes before he runs out of lives in both worlds and lets his phone drop to the table.

Whilst munching on his cereal, Louis wonders how much time he's spent wasted on that game. He's on level three-hundred-and-something and can't exactly remember when he started playing. He's tried multiple other versions of the game but none of them can compare to the original Candy Crush. Which technically originated from Bejeweled but that is so outdated. He remembers watching his grandmother play it on her brick phone at Christmas time when everyone was huddled around the kitchen table.

After Louis finishes his cereal, he's at a loss what to do. The party is long over and all the boys are passed out, he's hyped up on red velvet Oreos, his mind is only seeing splashing blood and he's only hearing screaming and chainsaws in his subconscious so there's not really a chance of going to sleep either. He can always pull up My Little Pony and hope to drown out the last six hours of his life with songs about wrapping up winter and dinosaurs being jealous over owls. The thought sounds enlightening, but he’s not going to harm his dignity any more today.

Louis is on the first three steps heading upstairs when he pauses. He's not high, but he could always go get Liam and make a three AM trip to Taco Bell like they usually do when Louis is in a funk. Speaking of being high, it's been a long time since Louis' been any type of subdued by drugs or alcohol.

At the fact, he raises an eyebrow at himself, utterly surprised. He skipped out on tonight’s party where Jasper definitely would've had weed and Niall would've shoved booze down his throat until it was raw. Well that's definitely different, Louis doesn't ever remember wanting to skip out on parties, even if he was sick. What’s wrong with him?

The realization stumps him. Never in the whole two years Louis has been in this fraternity has he ever skipped out on a party. What's changed? Why would he rather have a movie marathon with Oreos and his stuffed animal under his covers than go and get smashed or have a good make out with some random prostitute? It can't possibly have to do with Marcel; he doesn't have that much power over Louis. It _has_ to be the bet weighing on his shoulders, that's the only logical explanation. Louis needs a beer; whenever their house didn't have a party he always drank a bottle before he went to bed anyway to calm himself down. Now he's moved onto Oreos? Beer must be heartbroken; he'll have to reunite with it soon.

Louis sits down on the step and calls Liam, his eyes sagging as he listens to the dial tone. It goes to Liam's voicemail and Louis scowls. Today just isn't a good phone day for Liam to answer. For anyone to answer, actually. Liam always answers no matter what even if he's still half asleep. It's either the sleep deprivation or sugar high talking but something possesses Louis to slip on some shoes and walk out of the house.

Now that he's outside all by himself, it's peaceful but unnerving at the same time. Having the visions of severed bodies still flashing through his mind isn't very comforting, so he hugs Snowy closer to him and walks, slowly making his way to Liam's dorm. If Liam had answered his phone this would be on different circumstances and they would be going to Taco Bell right now and Louis would be ordering a faux-co, but _no_. Liam just has to pick tonight of all times to be a heavy sleeper.

The walk seems longer than normal, and Louis’ head is pounding by the time he goes to knock on Liam’s door. Strange, he could be dehydrated, but remembers drinking water today, so that can’t be it. Louis’ hand pauses in the middle of the air, second-guessing Liam’s capability to be _that_ tolerant of Louis’ horrible decision to have a _Saw_ marathon, and glances at one door to the right. It's Marcel's dorm, and Louis hasn't thought about him for more than seven hours. That's a new record.

He's tempted to knock on Marcel's door, but since he doesn't have Marcel's number he couldn't ring him beforehand and tell him that he was coming over. Marcel has Louis’ number but still hasn't called him yet, which was totally unfair because that means Marcel has the upper hand in this situation. Damn him, Louis still has a lot of work to do. In the grand scheme of things, that kiss is nothing.

Sighing, Louis strolls back to the stairwell and sits down, opting for the next best option after Liam. He pulls out his phone and presses it to his ear lightly and listens to the dial tone in his exhausted, self-deprecated state.

_"Mmm what Louis?"_

"Hi Zayn." He speaks softly. "Were you asleep?"

 _"Half."_ He says. _"What do you want?"_

"I'm bored, and I have a lot to tell you." He says, leaning against the metal railing.

Zayn groans. _"I've been waiting for you to call, but can't this wait until the morning?"_

"No, because it requires feedback ASAP. And it's three in the morning and I had a _Saw_ marathon and can't sleep."

 _"You're such an idiot."_ He says. _"I'm listening."_

Louis grins and proceeds to tell him about the past week and a half. Zayn either seems unamused or is just truly half asleep, but either way Louis keeps talking, eventually getting louder and laughing at his own stupidity. He spent a whole week sober pining over the guy he's supposed to have sex with just to stay in the fraternity he doesn’t even want to be in. Now that Louis is actually vocalizing it, he realizes how idiotic he sounds.

 _"Wait, so you haven't drank or smoked for almost_ two weeks _?"_ Zayn asks, almost horrified with a bit of incredulity. Of course he would ask. He's the Kush King.

"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me." Louis mutters.

Zayn laughs softly, and then he keeps laughing louder and louder as if it's the funniest thing in the world. He's drowning in his own laughter and Louis clenches his phone.

"What's so damn funny?"

_"Louis, do you hear yourself? You're trying to impress Marcel!"_

"What, there's no way." Louis says.

_"Think about it! You said you were nervous if he was turned off to drugs and alcohol, right? You know he's smoked weed but that's about one of the five personal things you know about him."_

"Right..."

_"And your brain is fixated on two things right now; one, get in Marcel's pants, and two, make sure it happens no matter what. Come on, Lou, this is basic psychology. You haven't drank or smoked because you don't really know Marcel's opinion on it. You know he's done it, but that doesn't mean he likes it, so your natural reaction is to push it away while you focus on your main goal. Which is Marcel."_

"That makes no sense," Louis narrows his eyes, "you're delusional."

 _"No, I'm really not."_ Zayn chuckles. _"Just think about it for a minute. What's one thing you've found yourself doing that you don't normally do?"_

Louis picks at the crumbling stairwell. "Going cold turkey."

_"Okay, and when did it start?"_

Louis' voice drops hardly above an utter. "Since I made the bet."

 _"Uh-huh,"_ The way Zayn's voice is vaingloriously dripping with sarcasm makes Louis want to set his entire art portfolio on fire. Louis would gladly fly four and a half hours just to put Zayn through that torture because he deserves that kind of horrible treatment, damnit. _"So Marcel is your new drug. You're so busy trying to get him to notice you that you're forgetting about everything else."_

Louis glares at the pillar holding up the stairwell structure. It doesn't deserve it, but right now Louis has nothing else to take out his frustration on. Scowling at an inanimate object made of cement seems better than screaming out into the open where he has the possibility of waking up the entire campus. There's _no_ way Marcel has that influence over him, it's just unfathomable. Louis is letting this whole thing get to his head; he needs to get smashed as soon as possible.

"So you're saying Marcel is my replacement for drugs and alcohol and everything else shitty in my life?"

 _"Yup."_ Zayn says rather chipper, and he better watch his tone because Louis is still seriously considering buying the first plane ticket to Los Angeles to go and burn his paintings to dust. He almost caused a full-blown campus fire, he's pretty sure his pyromaniac side could cause the same amount of damage to Zayn's studio.

Louis groans, because his brain is still throbbing and Marcel's room is only twenty-seven paces away and he can't handle his life right now.

"Well shit." Louis tugs at his hair, leaning forward on his knees. "I'm fucked."

 _"No, actually Marcel is, unless you decide to switch at the last minute."_ If Louis were sitting next to Zayn he'd be sure to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. It's three in the morning and he doesn't understand how Zayn is half-asleep and still has the audacity to make jokes like that. Louis hates him.

Louis lets out an exasperated groan and rubs his hand across his face. His head really hurts. "I just," He sighs, "I don't know. I don't want to do it anymore, I've been thinking about finding someone else."

Zayn is silent on the other end and Louis has to check to make sure the line is still connected. He puts his phone back to his ear. "Hello?"

 _"I heard you,"_ Zayn says. _"You're thinking of finding someone else to use in the bet? Why?"_

"God, I don't know Zayn." Louis holds his hand out even though Zayn can't see him. "As much as I hate to admit I actually _like_ him. I'm pretending to be someone I'm not for him and then I'm someone completely different with Niall. Marcel thinks I'm being genuine and Niall thinks I'm acting. It's like I'm stuck in this shitty vortex destined to cause more destruction than it can handle."

 _"That's deep, even for you."_ Zayn says, and Louis scoffs. _"Well have you talked to Niall about it?"_

"No," Louis says, "and I don't think I'm going to. I'm just gonna suck it up like with everything else I do."

_"Why don't you just lie again? Wouldn't that be easier?"_

"Well yeah, but at the same time no. I'm still stuck with my guilt knowing I lied to get into the house in the first place, so I can't just _lie_ that I did Marcel up the butt when he's still here."

 _"Didn't you say something about blackmailing him to dropping out?"_ Zayn asks.

Louis shrugs half-heartedly. "Yeah, but I couldn't do that to him. He's seems to have it really rough, I don't want to drive him out. That's why he came here in the first place."

 _"Wait, what?"_ Zayn says, and Louis remembers he forgot to fill him in about the part where Marcel has some haunting past; Louis had only covered the parts having to do with himself. Oops.

"Oh, well long story short something happened that made him move here. He still hasn't told me why."

_"Did you ever find out where he lived?"_

"Yeah, actually. Southern California, just like you." Louis says absentmindedly. He can't believe he forgot to tell him the most important details. His brain must be having a seizure. "I asked him if he knew you, he said he didn't."

 _"Huh."_ Louis knows Zayn is contemplating. _"Well can you send me a picture of him?"_

Louis scrunches his face. "Zayn, it was our first kiss not our three year anniversary. There's no way I could get a picture of him without him seeing, you know I'm not as stealth as you."

 _"That's true, well, just try okay? I want to see the guy that has Louis Tomlinson falling head over heels for."_ Zayn says, and Louis rolls his eyes though he's still smiling.

"Shut up. I'll call you later."

_"Or, you could stay on the phone with me since now I'm wide awake thanks to you."_

Louis purses his lips. "Mmm, nah. I think I'll go to sleep."

Zayn chuckles. _"Dick. I'll talk to you later."_

"Bye." Louis hangs up, watching the call end and his phone go back to the dial screen. He presses the home button then turns it off, thinking about what Zayn said, Marcel being his new 'drug'. It's weird and somewhat creepy but Louis can see how it'd make sense. Wherever Marcel was Louis wanted to be right next to him. Earlier he was asking why he'd skipped out on the party, well, now he knew.

Louis leans his head on the cool railing. It's easing on his throbbing temples, he thinks he's coming down with a fever. With the constant headaches stemming from the stress of school, Marcel, lack of sleep, the fraternity, and his life in general it's finally catching up to him now that he's sitting alone at the top of the three-floor stairwell just outside of his best friend and soon-to-fuck friend's dorms at who-knows-what time. Louis feels his forehead just in case, but since he doesn't know shit about anything medical, he lets his hand drop to his side.

Fuck it, he'll go into the nurse tomorrow.

**XxX**

_January 19th_

Louis is in bed the next morning after paying an early visit to the nurse like he claimed he would. Turns out, he does have a fever, and he feels like absolute shit. His head feels like it’s stuck in a boiling pot of water. All of his muscles ache, his joints are making him feel like a ninety-year-old man, he can’t stop sweating, and he has a sore throat. No wonder he didn't want to go to the party last night, he feels like damnation itself. And the movie marathon he had definitely did _not_ help.

There's a light knock on the door and Louis slowly turns his head. The door opens and it's Niall. He has a wet rag in his hand and a glass of water. Bless him and his demonic dyed head.

"Hey," Niall says, and Louis is thankful that he’s actually speaking softly for once in his life. "I brought you water."

"Thanks." He says, his voice crackly and hoarse. Niall hands him the wet rag and he sets it on his forehead gently and eases into the cool touch. It feels so refreshing not to deal with his head that feels like it's on fire. Niall sets the glass on his nightstand right as his phone lights up. Niall cocks his head to the side.

"Someone texted you."

Louis scowls and blindly reaches over to grab his phone. He squints as he looks at the screen and sees it's an unknown number. Weird.

**_From: (***)-***-*****_ **

_Hey, its Marcel. Liam said you have a fever, can I come see you?_

Louis doesn't know what's burning more, his forehead or the pit of his stomach. He's sure he's blushing but thanks the heavens for his fever since his face is already a light shade of red. Marcel finally texted him, Louis honestly can’t believe it. Niall is looking at him quizzically.

"Who is it?"

"Marcel." He says. Niall tries to hide his malicious grin but fails terribly.

"Ooooh, what'd he say?"

When Niall reaches for his phone Louis stuffs it down his pajama pants. Niall pouts and Louis sticks his tongue out.

"None of your business. He texted _me_ for a reason."

"Fine," Niall says sassily, "just keep your bedroom life to yourself. If he starts sexting you make sure to lock the door."

If Louis were physically able to trip Niall as he walks out the door he would, but since he isn't, he simply glares as Niall cackles and shuts the door. Louis turns back to his phone. He has more pressing issues to deal with, such as how to reply. He doesn't text casually, so what the fuck is he supposed to say? He pulls his phone back out of his pants.

**_To: Marcel_ **

_Fair warning i look like shit. Two blocks south from the fork and the third house on the right. Head up the stairs second room to the left_

The response takes less than a minute.

**_From: Marcel_ **

_So is that a yes? :)_

Louis wants to take his smiley emoticon and shove it up his ass.

**_To: Marcel_ **

_Yes_

**_From: Marcel_ **

_Okay I will be there soon :)_

Good fucking hell. Louis finally has Marcel's number and he can't even properly freak out. He's stuck in bed with a raging fever and not just because his dick is suddenly hard. He doesn't even have enough energy to wank then clean himself off; he'll be dead asleep by the time Marcel comes over. God, he hopes the boys don't ask questions. This is _not_ how he wanted all of them to meet the first time.

Since he's inhibited from walking like a normal human being, he feebly sends Niall a text.

**_To: Niall_ **

_Marcel is coming over DO NOT ask questions DO NOT let him wander around the house just show him to our room shut the door and absolutely do not tell him where my stash of coco pops are_

**_From: Niall_ **

_Jeez can i at least pass go and collect 200 ?_

**_To: Niall_ **

_Fuck you_

**_From: Niall_ **

_Ok ok i get it calm your dick_

**_To: Niall_ **

_Thank you !!!_

Louis drops his phone on his chest with a sigh. Niall still doesn’t know that Louis has developed actual feelings for Marcel, and he doesn’t _need_ to know. The less Niall is informed about his and Marcel’s relationship the better. Louis needs to keep this façade in place for as long as possible; if he doesn’t and Niall catches on then there will be problems. Louis has to keep Marcel under the radar as much as he can.

Louis is too fatigued for all this thinking. He needs another cold rag or a shot of whisky or maybe a sledgehammer so he can knock himself out before this all goes down. Maybe he’s just missing his sanity. Yeah. That's probably it.

Time passes by slowly. Louis can feel himself dozing off in his state of achy muscles and dry mouth, and in his subconscious along with the voices in his head he swears he hears the door creak open but is too exhausted to open his eyes. The weight on the bed unevenly distributes as a presence sits on his left side. He's just dreaming, no one is actually there. The last fever he had he remembers he dreamed about touching a wispy curtain and falling into some post-apocalyptic Alice In Wonderland world where alligators were playing football wearing fuzzy pink toe-socks. Or maybe he took ecstasy and just doesn't remember, either way, it was a freaky weird dream.

"Louis."

He feels a gentle hand touching his arm. It's not Liam, it's _definitely_ not Niall – because let's be honest, he can't be gentle no matter how hard he tries – so that only leaves one person.

Louis' eyes shoot open and he flings upward, making the rag fall to his lap and the veins in his forehead burst. God, why did he do that? He groans as he cradles his head, hoping that this pain would just go away already.

"Woah, I didn't mean to scare you." He says, and Louis finally looks over and is met with Marcel's sweet and innocent gaze. His eyes are filled with concern as he gently rubs Louis' shoulder. Damn him and his calming demeanor, Louis already feels better at the simple touch.

"Sorry–sorry, I was half asleep." Louis rubs his forehead and slowly lays back down. He sighs deeply and slaps the rag back on his head. It's lost all moisture; it just feels like a dead animal making him hotter. He growls and throws it on the floor. Marcel watches with a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"No." Louis says, bringing his arm up to his forehead. Putting pressure on it alleviates the ache if only a little. Something is better than nothing. "I feel like I ran a triathlon and roasting in an oven at the same time."

"Well I know why," Marcel says humorously.

He stands up and walks over to the window. When he draws the curtain, Louis squints at the sunlight, and Marcel opens the window. A nice breeze rolls in and he shuts the curtains so the sunlight is blocked, and he goes over to the other curtain and repeats the process. The room already feels much better and Louis no longer feels like he's a dying carcass in the desert.

"And this," Marcel draws back Louis’ large comforter, making him groan in protest, "is only making it worse." He grabs a light blanket from a nearby chair and drapes it over Louis’ body.

Louis curls up into it, pulling Snowy closer to his chest. Judging by the look on Marcel's face he saw the stuffed animal, and Louis figures he might as well delve into his self-humiliation before he jumps to his own conclusions.

"My mom gave it to me when I was five. I got attached to it." He says, pulling the stuffed husky closer to his face despite his pride. Marcel only smiles.

"That's alright, I have one too."

Louis slits his eyes open. "Do not. I helped you unpack."

Marcel grins. "It’s back home."

Louis leans up and gives him the most doubtful look he can muster. "Really. What is it?"

"A bear." He says. "I named him Basil."

If Louis had the energy he would laugh into next century. Instead, he snorts. "Basil, are you serious?"

Marcel holds his hands up defensively. "Hey, I was little. My sister gave it to me for my birthday."

Louis lets his head drop back down on the pillow. Well, he feels much better even though his forehead is still clad with sweat. He feels much more relaxed just with Marcel sitting next to him lightly tickling his arm. Oh, he hadn't noticed that. Louis’ eyes flicker down and Marcel's fingers halt.

"No, i-it's okay, you um..." Louis trails off when he remembers he's supposed to be dignified, but doesn't feel like putting forth effort into being so, and shuts his mouth. He just hopes Marcel catches on to what he’s implying. He's already making a fool of himself; he doesn't need to feel more mortified than he already is.

Marcel, bless his soul, catches on and continues his soothing tickles. It distracts the throbbing pain in Louis' head since he's more focused on Marcel's long fingers fragilely caressing his skin. It’s amazing how much better it makes Louis feel. His muscles are relaxing and not trying to suffocate themselves to death.

The calming touch of Marcel’s fingerprints is palliative as well. If Marcel was a bad-boy type it would seem like his hands were rugged from work or something stupid like parkour, but that's not the case at all. His hands aren't too rough but they're not too soft; they have just the right amount of strength and protection along with a tenderness and delicacy. Louis stops his thoughts, why the hell is he analyzing Marcel's hands? He doesn't just have a fever, he's mentally sick. That has to be the only explanation.

"Do you need anything?" Marcel asks, and Louis has a thousand answers that he can't physically say. He's too exhausted and he feels his head heating back up. Why did he have to throw the rag on the floor?

"Can you get me another rag?" He asks, feeling more pathetic than he probably seems. He's only inflicting this self-loathing on himself, Marcel probably just sees him as a sick individual who is desperate to get laid. Well, almost.

"Sure." Marcel stands up from his bed and once their contact breaks Louis immediately regrets asking him to leave. He soon comes back with a fresh towel and lays it over Louis’ forehead. Louis pretends to ignore the way Marcel’s thumb lightly caresses his cheek afterwards.

"Are you drinking water?" He asks.

Louis casts a pitiful glance to the glass still full of water on his nightstand. Precipitation from the ice is melting from the cup onto his desk and he's going to kill Niall if it leaves a ring stain, so obviously the answer is no. Why? Because it's too much effort to reach over, pick up the glass, take a drink, swallow, then set it back down. Marcel seems to piece this together and smiles.

"Do you want a water bottle instead?"

Louis nods, and he can't believe how easily he's being read. It must be because he's sick, he needs to work on his acting skills. Hell, he needs to work on his acting skills in general because lately he’s seriously embarrassed how bad he is at masking emotions. He started giggling after him and Marcel kissed and then he fell into a fetal position right in front of Niall, not to mention he let out a scream of bloody murder in the bathroom once they got back.

Good hell, he needs to get ahold of himself.

Marcel stands up and Louis weakly reaches for him as he leaves. He's so pathetic, Zayn was right. Marcel is Louis' new drug. Louis spends all his time and attention on him that it takes over everything else. He's put in so much effort trying to put off a good impression yet somehow manages to fuck it up by letting something slip or doing something stupid like getting sick where all his walls and defenses are below normal.

If Louis had the energy he'd scream into his pillow, but instead he glares at the ceiling. Giving the death glare to inanimate objects to express his anger is becoming a habit but for some reason but that’s better than any alternative.

Marcel returns with a sturdy water bottle with three ice cubes. He hands it to Louis as he sits on the bed and Louis flips the cap up and takes a sip. Wow, he already feels like a new person.

"Have you eaten?" He asks, and Marcel reminds Louis of a doting mother, but at the same time he doesn't really care. His inner clinginess loves the attention, but back to the matter at hand, he honestly doesn't remember.

"I don't think so."

Marcel gives him a disapproving look, and before Marcel can leave him again, Louis grabs his wrist. "But it's okay, I'll just ask Oliver to make me something."

"Is Oliver here?"

Louis blinks. Marcel sighs.

"Let me make you something, please? It won’t take very long."

"No, no, there's no need for that." Louis says quickly. He doesn't want Marcel staying longer than necessary because he knows for a fact half of the boys are already pressing their ears against his door eavesdropping. He's going to shove all of them in a trash can individually and personally drop kick them off a cliff once he's better.

"Please, you need to take some medication so your headache doesn't get worse." Marcel frowns.

Louis is about to retort but then realizes arguing will be futile. The stubborn look in Marcel's eyes that says he's not moving until he knows Louis is okay is unnerving but comforting at the same time. It's nice to know someone actually cares about him. Louis sinks into his blanket, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Fine. But I'm coming downstairs with you."

Marcel smiles and helps him sit up, making sure he doesn't get lightheaded or pop a blood vessel – because knowing Louis' luck that would happen to him – and he shuffles to the door, the blanket wrapped around him like a cape, making sure to make as much noise to alert the possible Peeping Tom's on the other side of the door. He turns the knob and hears scrambling and resists the urge to deep fry them all. All the boys are so predictable.

Louis opens the door and leads Marcel down the stairs, holding onto the railing so he doesn't fall. He feels like an old man by the way Marcel keeps his hand on Louis' shoulder back and is watching Louis' steps more carefully than his own. The second they set foot downstairs everyone's eyes turn to them. Marcel doesn't seem to notice but Louis sure does. The grins Jasper and Chad are giving him are blood curling and Gavin, Garrett, and Blake look like they're about to piss themselves. Niall looks up from Axel's Nintendo device and waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Louis groans. Why does everyone have to be home on Sundays?

Finnian seems to be the only one missing but he never says anything anyway, so if Louis had to be stuck in a room with someone from the house for eight days straight he'd pick Finnian because he never talks. Unfortunately, he's not here, so Louis is left to the twelve pairs of eyes scrutinizing him like a piece of meat. He flops next to Drew and Oliver on the couch dejectedly while Marcel goes into the kitchen. He immediately seems like he's in his natural element and Louis wants to set him on fire.

Oliver leans over, trying to be inconspicuous but not really succeeding. "Is he cooking?”

Louis grunts. "Go help him so he doesn't break something."

Oliver obliges and heads to the kitchen. Him and Marcel immediately get on well and soon it seems as if they're making a Thanksgiving dinner baby. Louis stays wrapped in his angry blanket of shame sipping from his water bottle while all the boys keep glancing at him. He keeps his gaze fixated forward on the wall, once again taking out his anger on an inanimate object. He needs a Dammit Doll, maybe he’ll ask for one for an early birthday present.

Louis slips into a half-coma then is suddenly jolted away when a hand is pressed to his cheek. He blinks rapidly and sees Marcel smiling at him.

"Hi," He hands Louis a cup full of some liquid green substance. It looks like one of those gross green smoothies that consist of only spinach, flax seed, and pecans that only crazy foodies eat to lose weight. Louis immediately scrunches his nose. Marcel smiles, amused. "I promise it's not gross. Just try it."

"This better not be some type of juice cleanse." Louis says, giving him a look of disbelief – while ignoring the persistent stares he's still earning from the boys – and takes a drink. It's green all right, but it's not disgustingly gross like he thought it'd be. It's sweet and full of flavor and actually feels soothing as it goes down his throat, much more than the water had been. He takes another drink. "What's in this?"

Marcel grins and hands him some painkillers. "You'd get bored before I finished telling you. After you're done with that take those and go back to sleep. I also made some soup for you when you wake up."

Louis swears he hears Niall chime in with the trio to say, _"awww"_ , but he promptly flips them all off, sending them in a fit of giggles, and holds the cup closer. He hopes this smoothie doesn't screw up his digestive system; knowing Marcel he could've spiked it with some laxatives. It’d be his karma for slapping him in the face with that pizza slice a few weeks ago. Louis has learned very well from past experiences to never trust the vegans.

When the cup is half empty – no, Louis is not being pessimistic –Marcel and Oliver go to clean the kitchen up. Louis swallowed the pills disdainfully though he knows they'll help later on. The soup Marcel made smells heavenly and Louis just wants to bathe in it for the rest of his life.

Whilst moping up in bed, he hadn't realized how hungry he'd been. Marcel is an incredible cook and Louis wonders why he never knew this before. He may even be up to par with Oliver, the one who's grown up in restaurant business his whole life and is majoring in the culinary arts. Hopefully this doesn't spark a mutual rivalry or else Marcel can never set foot in the house again.

Marcel comes back to the couch and Drew gets up to give them privacy. He ushers the other boys to follow, and some of them go upstairs immediately while others linger. Marcel sits next to Louis and feels his forehead, making Louis flush. He sees the sly grins a few of the boys give him as they go upstairs and wants to torch them all. Or instead of that, he could spread his germs by drinking out of their water bottle and give them a fever – that would be the best payback.

"You should sleep." He says, so sickeningly sweet and full of concern that Louis feels like his tears could heal even the deepest wound. He's a holy angel sent from above to remind people like Louis that he's trash. Oh well, Louis has already accepted that about himself.

"But that requires walking back upstairs." He whines. Marcel smiles.

"Then why'd you come down here in the first place?"

Louis pouts. The real answer is so he could monitor what the boys said to him, if anything at all, and any questions they may have asked. Because Marcel is down here the talking was kept to a minimum but Louis knew they were just dying to speak up. He's honestly surprised how even Gavin or Garrett hadn’t said anything, usually they'd be all over this. Louis doesn’t want to answer with anything but sulking, so that’s what he does.

Louis truly does want to go back upstairs though, and if he really wants he can milk this sickness and have Marcel carry him bridal style up the stairs – because who wouldn't want to feel his biceps underneath their thighs? But alas, Louis still has some dignity left, and if Louis Tomlinson still has dignity that means he won't admit defeat no matter what, not until his liver is severed into five different pieces and parts of his body are shipped to multiple parts of the world and used for fish bait. Then maybe he'd think about it.

Pursing his lips, Louis holds his arms out like a child and Marcel pulls him up slowly. He's securely in Marcel's brace and frankly doesn't want to leave but knowing that the boys could possibly be watching from the stairs his privacy feels severely invaded. He tears away from Marcel and rewraps the blanket around his shoulders, burying his nose into the fluffiness. It smells just like old pizza and cheap cologne – the epitome of his life.

Marcel guides Louis upstairs with a hand on his lower back and trips all the way up the stairs and into his room, too wired to even dream of sleeping. He doesn't even feel sick anymore, he feels like he could run a triathlon. He bounces into bed and looks at Marcel. His expression is simply amusement mixed with pure adoration. That's a new one.

"I'm not tired anymore." Louis says and Marcel chuckles.

"I know, it's because you gave your body energy. Trust me, though, you'll crash soon if you don't sleep."

"Oh come on, have you met me? The longest I've gone without sleep is three and a half days living just off of Mountain Dew and Oreos, I'm pretty sure it'll take a lot more than being sick to knock me out."

Marcel raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. How long have you had symptoms?"

Louis shrugs. "Dunno, few days, maybe? I had a killer headache yesterday but didn’t really notice it." _Courtesy of yours truly._

Marcel lightly pushes Louis down to his pillow, setting Snowy atop his chest and tucking the blanket under him.

"Sleep." He says, and leaves no room for argument as he goes to step out of the room. A rush of adrenaline suddenly spikes through Louis' system and he quickly sits up, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Wait, you're not leaving me are you?"

Marcel faces him, looking slightly taken aback and puzzled. After a moment, he asks, "Did you want me to stay?"

There's a long drawn out silence. Before, Louis didn't know the depth those few words could hold, and now he can’t even begin to fathom them. _Does_ he want Marcel to stay?

Well, yeah. He's been a better caretaker of Louis than he's been to himself since he came to college. There hasn’t been a time Louis has ever felt more relaxed or calm than in the presence of Marcel making green smoothies and soup for him and tucking him in bed.

Of _course_ Louis wants him to stay, but he can't physically say it.

His mouth is frozen in an 'o' shape. If he were to admit that he wants Marcel to stay, his impression level would dampen and Marcel would think he’s pathetic. Internally, one side of Louis’ brain is brutally fighting against the other and he wants to cry.

Louis just wants to tell the truth. He’s tired of all these masks and acting like someone he’s not. He just wants to be honest with Marcel, honest with Niall, honest with Liam, honest with himself. It must be the fever making him so emotional.

No matter how hard Louis tries, he can’t speak. He doesn’t _want_ to speak, he just wants this to all be a dream and for him and Marcel to actually be friends without feeling obligated to keep up appearances or a stupid bet nagging at his conscious.

Louis feels his pride diminishing with each passing second. Eventually, he lets out an indignant huff and sinks under his comforter regardless if Marcel said it would make his fever worse. He throws the light blanket over his head, squinting his eyes shut and hopes his brain will shut off. He keeps waiting and waiting for the door to shut and the footsteps to fade away down the hall, but they never do.

Instead, Louis hears the footsteps coming towards him until the weight of the bed shifts behind him. Louis’ eyes snap open and the blood rushes to his head. He stays frozen, knowing Marcel is sitting right behind him probably twiddling his thumbs and questioning why he’s still here.

Louis doesn’t deserve his compassion – he’d rather Marcel run for the hills and get out while he still can before Louis has time to utterly humiliate him. It’s terrible to see such a friendship go to waste, because Louis honestly feels like Marcel could be a genuine friend. There’s still time to tell Niall the truth and call off the bet, or even find someone else, but Louis’ pride keeps getting in the way. He had his eyes set on Marcel in the beginning so he’s going to stick with him.

Somewhere deep in his subconscious, Louis feels himself slowly drifting off, his exhaustion too prominent to fight away. He eyelids start drooping and he swears he feels a slight pressure on his head before he completely falls into black.

**XxX**

_January 20th_

Louis’ eyes snap open and he stares at the ceiling. Where is he? He doesn’t remember. There’s warmth pressed against his backside and he vaguely wonders if he’s in some alternative universe where being sick was actually just a dream. Sitting up slowly, he looks around the dark room. The windows are still open and letting a cool breeze roll in, he at least remembers that. Louis turns to look at the bright clock to the right of him. It’s one AM.

The presence next to Louis stirs and he jumps, almost having forgotten. It’s Marcel, and Louis stares at him blankly with a bit of mortification. Why is Marcel in his bed? Did they get drunk last night and Louis can’t remember a single thing? Fuck, this is bad. This is really, really bad.

Looking around the room in a frenzy, Louis sees Niall isn’t in his bed, which, weird, because he always sleeps in his bed no matter what. Louis looks forward at the wall, cold blood pounding through his veins. What the fuck happened? Where is Niall?

He looks back at Marcel. He looks so peaceful asleep with his mouth slightly parted and chest slowly rising up and down. The glasses he wears are on his chest and his eyelids are gently fluttering back and forth. He must be dreaming – Louis recognizes it as the REM stage of sleep. He hopes at least Marcel has good dreams, because unlike Louis, he deserves them.

Louis slowly turns and dangles his feet over the bed. He wraps the blanket around his shoulders and shuffles out of the room, glancing back at Marcel once he’s in the doorway, then continues downstairs. When one of the steps squeaks he cringes, hoping it won’t potentially wake up any of the boys who are light sleepers. When Louis looks out into the living room, he sees Niall asleep on the couch, chest rising up and down slowly. Louis stares at him for a long time before emotions begin to swell in his chest. He’s sleeping on the couch because he wanted to give Marcel and Louis privacy. He’s never done something like that before.

Pushing away the sentimental feelings that are beyond unnecessary, Louis goes to the fridge and opens it. The soup Marcel made is sitting on the middle shelf in a pot untouched. There’s a small note on the top and Louis rips it off.

_Eat this when you wake up. You’ll feel better._

_-Marcel_

And, oh. Louis had been too tired to even eat the soup earlier so Marcel put a note on it in with the intent of leaving him be, but Louis begged him to stay. That’s why Marcel was sleeping soundly next to Louis – he actually stayed.

Swallowing the shallow feeling in his throat, Louis pulls out the pot, dishes himself some soup, and eats it cold. He doesn’t want to wake Niall up with the sound of the microwave, he’s already is sacrificing enough just by sleeping on the couch. Remembering the one time he refused to sleep in their shared room due to Niall bringing back some nice brunette with legs that went on for years and he didn’t want to sleep through the creaking bed and sound of lips smacking so he slept on the couch instead (and it was _terrible_ experience, he was woken up every hour), Louis presses the unfathomable emotions to the back of his mind. Niall is on the couch fully expecting Louis to have gone through with the bet, yet will wake up in six hours only to find out he hasn’t. Louis is a horrible, horrible person.

One thing Louis doesn’t understand, though, is why Marcel stayed. He didn’t have to; he probably had better things to do and frankly wasn’t planning on staying a night in a fraternity. Louis honestly doesn’t blame him, but the note he left leaves something short of ignominy in his mouth. Marcel is here because Louis asked him to stay even though he didn’t want to. He just doesn’t understand.

Once Louis finishes the soup, he sets the dish in the sink quietly. There’s not much he can do now if he wants to let Niall sleep, so he’ll wash it in the morning before classes. Heading back upstairs with a burning in his chest, Louis casts one last glance to Niall before going back to his room. Marcel is still peacefully asleep and a pang of guilt hits Louis like a dagger. It’s a school night and he’s here under the pretenses that he’s going to get a favor in return. He’s not. Louis doesn’t work like that. He builds people up to believe he’s a good person then disappoints them in every way possible. It’s just how Louis is; he’s genuinely not a good person as everyone makes him out to be.

“Marcel?” Louis whispers, putting his hand on Marcel’s shoulder gently. “Marcel.”

It takes a moment for him to stir. Knowing the feeling of being ripped from a dream deep in the subconscious, Louis waits patiently. Marcel’s eyelids blink open and Louis can’t quite place the emotion on his face as his green eyes fill with color.

“Hm, Louis?” His voice is deep, sultry, and Louis feels like he’s been reborn. Every part of his body is suddenly very alert as Marcel sits up, rubbing his eyes as his glasses fall to his lap. The resemblance between a worldwide model and Marcel is incredibly uncanny. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

Well, by all means it is _now_ simply because Marcel’s voice is as deep as Pacific Ocean and it’s _sexy as fuck_ , but no, because it’s one in the morning and Louis has guilt akin to running over a little girl’s puppy. He nods.

“Yeah, just…” He trails off, not quite knowing where he’s going with this. Is he asking Marcel to leave? Asking him to stay? He doesn’t know, and he shakes his head. “Why, why are you still here?”

Marcel blinks, and they stare at each other for what seems like hours but really is only about two solid seconds.

“Because you wanted me to stay.”

Louis tries to ignore the persisting stab in his chest. “But it’s a school night.”

“I’d rather have you feel safe than me lay in my bed all night alone knowing you don’t feel well.” He says, propping himself up. “It’s not a big deal, I really don’t mind.”

“But…”

“Louis,” Marcel smiles. His voice is still deep and he lightly tugs on his wrist lightly. Louis looks down at their contact. His touch is so light and feathery Louis feels like he could stuff a pillow with it. “I don’t mind.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the boy in front of him that’s too compassionate for his own good. Marcel isn’t like Louis – he doesn’t use people to get what he wants and hasn’t been burned enough times to know what true pain and betrayal feels like. He goes around wearing his heart on his sleeve when Louis can’t afford to do that. He has too much at stake to risk doing that whereas Marcel has nothing to lose. Except Louis. There’s always that possibility of losing him, but even then that’s not worth much.

“Come here,” Marcel scoots over and pulls him down to the bed. Louis has no option but to comply and Marcel wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder and pulls him in close. It feels awkward and out of place but when the scent of Marcel’s discount Walmart shampoo floods Louis’ senses everything suddenly seems okay. In the dim room with the moon shining and the drapes flowing in the wind it’s as if in that moment everything is fine. There’s nothing to worry about; Louis is just here at one-thirty AM stuck with the aftermath of a raging fever and all he can think about is how lucky he got to find someone like Marcel.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. Louis shakes his head.

“I ate the soup.”

Marcel smiles. “Did you like it?”

Louis grins. “Of course I did. Your cooking is so good it could cure aids.”

Marcel snorts comically and pulls Louis in closer, grabs Snowy from the floor and sets it on Louis’ lap. Louis smiles cheekily and flips Snowy’s stubby paws back and forth, attempting to distract his anchoring thoughts. He swears he feels Marcel press a kiss to his temple but ignores it.

“You really are a night owl,” Marcel says, “You were dead asleep all day.”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, well, my circadian rhythm is off. Even during school I fall asleep, I just can’t help it.”

Marcel smiles. “Speaking of school, Niall did your homework for you. He said you had some government essay due that you’d procrastinated.”

“Niall did my homework?” Louis asks, turning his head to look at Marcel. He nods unsurely.

“Yeah, he said he would be nice and write it for you.”

Louis groans. “Wow. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful he did it, but now I’m for sure getting an F. Have you seen Niall’s writing? It’s like a two year old got a hold of a pencil and notepad and tried to write a story about Cinderella tripping down the stairs. A disaster.”

Marcel chuckles and nuzzles his nose right behind Louis’ ear. His breath sends tickles down Louis’ spine. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. He said he felt bad because you were sick. I don’t remember the other guys name but he helped.”

There’s only one other ‘guy’ he can be referring to. “Jasper?”

“Yeah, him.”

Louis rolls his eyes. Of course it was. He’s going to owe Jasper another candy bar for that one. He’ll worry about that tomorrow though; right now he’s tucked under Marcel’s arm and there’s still a small headache resting on the crown of his skull, but for the most part he’s content. He definitely feels much better than he did earlier.

“You should go back to sleep.” Marcel says, his voice deep and guttural as he brushes his nose against Louis’ cheekbone. Shadows cast across his face from the moonlight shining through the window, and Louis tries not to look at the universe held Marcel’s irises. He doesn’t understand the power he has over Louis. One simple touch and he’s completely gone.

Louis lets out a nervous laugh. “But I’m not exactly tired.”

“You said that last time.” Marcel says, and when Louis looks at him he sees the small hint of deviance behind his glossy eyes. “Don’t make me drug you again.”

“Wha–” Louis splutters, tries to gather his thoughts but fails miserably, blinks rapidly, and stares at him incredulously with his mouth dropped open. “You _drugged_ me?”

“Just a Benadryl,” Marcel beams, “nothing else, I swear!”

Louis hits his chest, making him laugh. “I hate you.”

Smiling with the mass of the sun, Marcel presses a kiss to his forehead. “I know.” His breath tingles against Louis’ ear and the vibrations go all the way down to Louis’ toes. A small whimper takes place in Louis’ throat, quiet enough so Marcel catch it but loud enough for his body to react instantly. Here he is _sick_ in his bed with Marcel at two AM and he’s now hard. Why.

The little shit pulls Louis down to rest his head on the pillows and pulls him to his body. Louis is vaguely aware that his bum is flushed against Marcel’s crotch, which only makes him harder, but he bites his lip in attempt to suppress the feeling. Since when did he become the little spoon? His ego is severely offended; just because he’s short doesn’t mean he’s submissive. Marcel is just insanely tall and has giraffe legs, so he’s the abnormal one.

Louis soon finds himself drifting off once more, after making up his mind to take the soup into a lab tomorrow morning to get it tested for traces of tryptophan. Just in case, of course.

**XxX**

Seven hours later Louis wakes up feeling much better than yesterday. His throat isn’t dry, his head no longer feels like it’s drowning in a boiling pot of water, and he’s not dizzy as he sits up. One thing Louis doesn’t expect to be there, though, is an odd sense of loneliness when he sees he’s alone in bed. Unable to move a muscle, Louis sits there underneath his covers with Snowy still perched on his lap. It’s the same bed, just a little bit bigger now. It shouldn’t make a difference whether Marcel stayed with him or not; Louis is used to waking up alone, getting dressed alone, eating alone, going through the day alone, brushing his teeth alone, going to bed alone until he wakes up the next day and does it all over again. It’s how it’s been his entire life, so why is there a nagging loneliness in the back of his mind? There truly is no purpose or reason it’s there, he doesn’t understand.

Then again, he doesn’t understand a lot of things lately.

Louis stretches and lets his aching joints pop. It’s a strange sensation to know that with every passing second he’s getting older and can’t ever go back. It’s like life is continuously pushing him forward without giving him any slack or warning as to what’s coming. No one can escape time, and no one can escape their mind that puts them in that boxed-up feeling of being trapped, a _slave_ to it. All of these thoughts are making Louis go stir crazy, so he stops thinking about how he feels like an old man popping his back and looks to his phone. Surprisingly, there’s a note tucked underneath the screen, and Louis picks it up between his fingers to open it.

_Had to run to class. Drink lots of water and stay in bed! You’re not contagious anymore but I don’t want you pushing yourself. _

_-Marcel_

Unconsciously, Louis feels himself smiling bigger than a kid on Christmas morning. What’s with Marcel leaving notes all over the place? Is this some new type of development in their relationship? Louis doesn’t know, but he really likes the way Marcel curves his y’s and g’s. His handwriting is so eloquent, it’s a wonder how they’ve known each other this long and Louis still hasn’t seen it. Whatever the case, leaving notes is seemingly becoming a routine thing for them, and Louis isn’t minding it at all. In fact, he loves it, and wants to show it off like a schoolgirl with her crushes love letter.

Pushing away the sappy thoughts of writing poetry describing the color of Marcel’s eyes in sixty-two different ways, Louis unplugs his phone and throws the covers and Snowy to the side as he hops out of bed. Since he can’t write Marcel a mushy love note right now, he’ll text him. It’s still just as romantic, right?

**_To: Marcel_ **

_I appreciate the note but you must not know me very well. I hate staying in bed all day_

Surprisingly, the response is almost instantaneous.

**_From: Marcel_ **

_Funny, I would’ve thought different ;)_

Louis wills the flushing red on his cheeks away.

**_To: Marcel_ **

_Anyway thanks for staying last night. You really didn’t have to_

**_From: Marcel_ **

_No problem, I was happy to. I just didn’t want to cross any boundaries_

Boundaries, he says! Louis almost laughs.

**_To: Marcel_ **

_Does it look like I have boundaries_

**_From: Marcel_ **

_I mean the way you were cuddled up with Snowy when I woke up might shows you have some ;)_

So the winky faces are becoming recurring thing, all right. Louis can do this, he’s sexted before. Not for a long period of time but that was probably because he scared the poor girl off. In this case, though, he’s not too sure how well it’ll go over while Marcel is in class, but maybe it’ll speed up the process of getting in his pants. Having a hard dick and not being able to physically get up and leave the class is pure torture. Louis has experienced it many times.

**_To: Marcel_ **

_Well would you rather have me cuddle you instead ?_

After Louis sends it, he scrubs a hand across his forehead. Did he seriously just say that? It was the most idiotic and cheesy thing he could’ve ever possibly said. When there’s no response, Louis accepts his eminent doom and humiliation he’ll be bestowed the rest of his life. He can live in Humiliation Land along with his pet lizards Shame and Guilt. He’ll be crowned King of Failed Attempts at Flirtatiously Texting and sent to his medieval death by spreading second-hand embarrassment throughout the land.

Once Louis’ foreign fantasy doom is all planned out and he’s accepted his fate, his phone buzzes in his hand.

**_From: Marcel_ **

_If I remember correctly I was the one cuddling YOU._

The little fucker, he’s such a cheeky bastard Louis is going to wreck him when he gets the chance. Bruises, hickies, twitchy palms, sore muscles, everything. Marcel is practically begging on his knees for it and Louis can feel himself getting worked up. He growls at himself, throwing his phone on the bed and storming to the bathroom. Since he’s positive all the boys are in class, he has the house and the shower _all_ to himself. He can be as loud as he wants.

So he is.

**XxX**

Later, Louis treads through campus despite Marcel’s orders. His dick hurts from going too hard in the shower _again_ and since he doesn’t want to go to class since technically he’s still sick and also too lazy, so he finds himself aimlessly wandering up to Liam’s dorm. After Louis knocks, he waits. Someone is bound to open the door because classes have been back in session for weeks, so Liam’s roommates are most likely back from the break. When Louis hears footsteps walking towards the door, he turns to greet them with a smile but stops when the door swings open to reveal a boy, which Louis doesn’t recognize at all.

“Hi,” Louis says flatly, knowing the boy probably doesn’t know him either, “I’m Liam’s friend. Is he here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, he’s in class.”

There’s a hint of a southern accent. His skin looks pasty white in contrast to his jet black hair that’s gelled to one side and he has gauges bigger than the Carina nebula. If he were to take them out he’d definitely need surgery to close the holes back up, but Louis isn’t about to judge him by the size of his gauges. Obviously if Liam is rooming with him then he’s a good person, so Louis automatically trusts him.

“Oh, alright. Do you mind if I wait for him then?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He opens the door wider and Louis strolls inside and plops down on the couch.

Looking at his phone void of any notifications, Louis spins it in his hand. He and Marcel had been bickering over text all day, but Marcel had to go into a class where the teacher was anal about phones, so he had to put it away. For now, Louis is bored, and knows Liam gets back around one, so is anticipating his arrival greatly. It’s around twelve-thirty so it won’t be long, he just hopes his albino roommate either leaves him be or sparks some type of conversation. When he does neither and awkwardly lingers in the doorway, Louis decides for both of their sakes to strike up a conversation.

“So what’s your name?” He asks.

“Phoenix.”

“I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” He says. Phoenix smiles.

“Yeah, I know. Liam talks about you a lot.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Does he?”

Phoenix nods. “You’re the one that always wants to go to Taco Bell.”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, bit of a high to blame for that one.”

“Really? Where do you get it here?” Phoenix asks, and Louis immediately goes rigid. The tone in Pheonix’s voice is unsettlingly curt, and frankly Louis doesn’t feel like sharing. He knows of many sources; his main one is Jasper, but he’s not about to blow his cover. Jasper, Chad, and Louis have all sworn to secrecy that they would never expose each other to any of the boys in the fraternity nor to any outsiders no matter what the circumstance – even if one of them is leaned over a police car with their hands behind their back, they’re still not allowed to utter a single word.

“Oh, just around. I’m sure you could find some if you asked.” Louis laughs nervously, hoping Phoenix doesn’t catch on. He just shrugs.

“Figured. The last college I went to my friend had some and blamed it on me. Had to transfer or else my parents would’ve killed me.” He grabs a Mountain Dew from the fridge and sits on the other side of the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. Louis plays with his phone nervously, feeling like it was a bad idea to come here alone. He’s still sick and isn’t quite thinking before he speaks, so he has to be extra cautious from now on. Telling random strangers he just met that he’s had ahold of drugs isn’t exactly the most urbane conversation to have, especially if it’s the first one.

“Really? Which college?”

Phoenix is already done with his Mountain Dew and he smashes the can in his hands. Louis cringes as the aluminum protests against his crushing hold, and he looks at Louis. Louis can feel the insides of his head pounding like an angry gorilla pleading to get out of its awful cage.

“University of Houston.” He tells Louis.

Louis’ grip on the arm of the couch becomes significantly tighter. Either Phoenix’s voice just dropped dangerously low or he’s imagining things, which he hopes it’s the latter, but then again maybe he doesn’t. This sickness isn’t feeling like a simple fever anymore, it’s going deeper into his bloodstream and messing with the cogs in his brain. Louis clears his throat and scoots further away from the albino man, clutching his phone in his hand. His heart rate is accelerating dangerously and he taps his foot to alleviate some of the tension, not sure whether to stay put or bolt out the nearest window.

“Are you here alone?” Louis asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Phoenix says. He looks over at Louis and stares expressionless. Louis stares back until he feels his hands start to shake and his voice hitch in the back of his throat. He forces himself to swallow and stands up, wobbling to the door with each step he takes.

“I-I um, just remembered I have t-to go…water my dog? Tell Liam I stopped by.” Louis doesn’t wait for a response and dashes out the exit, leaving the door swinging by its hinge.

The stairs require effort not to trip down, and Louis can feel his feet slipping beneath him as he falls to the ground once he reaches the bottom of the stairwell. His heart is pumping erratically, his cheeks are burning red, and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Where is he supposed to be going? Is there somewhere he’s supposed to be? He doesn’t feel safe– he _needs_ to feel safe. Right now. Think, Louis, _think_ , where is your home base? Where are you safe?

Marcel. Marcel, that’s it. Where is Marcel? Louis scrunches his eyes shut and presses two fists to his head. Marcel is in class, but which one? What day is it? Louis honest to God can’t breathe, what’s wrong with him? His veins are going to explode in his wrists and ankles and he’s going to bleed. He’s going to bleed because his blood isn’t getting enough oxygen and is screaming and clawing out of his skin for it; begging to be fed.

Louis feels himself shaking uncontrollably as he attempts to take deep breaths. He’s having a panic attack, for what reason he doesn’t know, but he has to find Marcel _now_.

Everything is a blur as Louis stumbles onto his feet and yanks the door to the school building open. He hears the distant sound of his classmates’ footsteps making their way out into the hall and he runs into some kid with a backpack. Unable to utter an apology, Louis wraps an arm around his torso and trudges forward to the place he thinks Marcel is. Purple and blue dots are starting to line his vision and his feet are collapsing beneath him. The only thing he can coherently think is _Marcel Marcel Marcel Marcel Marcel_ and push past people crowding the hallways. The name causes a rush of fire to his forehead and he falls against the closest wall in attempt to relieve the blistering.

Nearly two seconds from collapsing to the ground, Louis lifts his eyes in one last attempt to find his solace. With a strike of luck, he’s there, all glasses and gel talking to a peer with long blonde hair. Marcel is smiling and looks content, and for a moment Louis thinks _this is what he looks like when I’m not with him. He doesn’t need me, he’s happier without me._

Marcel turns his head to look forward, but when his eyes settle on Louis his posture immediately goes lax. “Louis?” He whispers, then leaves the girl behind as he breaks out into a run to where Louis is slowly sinking to the ground. Gravity is too strong, and Louis can’t stand much longer. He feels his eyes close and his conscious slowly slipping away.

“Louis, Louis, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Marcel drops his books to the ground and lightly shakes Louis’ shoulders.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut then opens them, tears now lining the rims of his eyes. He can’t physically speak; the words are stuck in the back of his throat and drowning in the tears cascading down his cheeks. Marcel brushes Louis’ hair away from his sweaty forehead and presses his lips to his forehead. He pulls away, lines creased between his eyebrows.

“You’re burning up again. I told you to stay in bed today.”

He doesn’t sound angry, just worried sick and on the edge over Louis collapsing. Louis feels sick to his stomach, though when he opens his eyes the nausea is suppressed when he sees Marcel’s gentle eyes. The calm, gentle look behind his irises is blazing the sage color of a forest; full of knowledge, wisdom, depth, and trust. Louis doesn’t know what comes over him, but he flings himself into Marcel, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. The harder he squeezes the more tears fall down his cheeks. Marcel hesitantly wraps his arms around Louis’ back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” He says, rubbing Louis’ back soothingly.

Just at that moment, Drew and Oliver round the corner. They immediately stop when they see Marcel and Louis, and Marcel beckons them over as he keeps Louis in his hold.

“Has he eaten anything?” Marcel inquires, and Drew and Oliver go pale.

“Um, he was asleep all morning.” says Oliver.

“We haven’t seen him at all today. Is he okay?” Drew takes a cautious step closer, and Marcel resists the urge to narrow his eyes. Why didn’t any of them check on him before they left? It’s the least they could’ve done.

“He’s still sick, he’s overemotional.” Marcel says, petting Louis’ hair lightly. “Will you two take him back to the house? He needs to eat and is probably dehydrated.”

“No!” Louis startles all three of them with his outburst, and he fists the back of Marcel’s shirt. “I want you, I want you to.”

Marcel scowls but it quickly turns sensitive. He runs his hands down Louis’ waist to mollify him and nuzzles his nose into his chocolate colored fringe. “Okay.”

Drew asks Marcel something Louis isn’t quite coherent for, because the blue and purple dots are getting bigger and more frequent and his conscious is slowly slipping in and out of reality. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, honestly. It feels like he’s crying but there’s no more tears coming out. His heart feel like its going to explode, his head feels like the Door to Hell, and Marcel is the only chance he has of bringing himself back.

“Lou,” Marcel says, a gentle hand pressed to Louis’ hip, “can you get up? Will you be okay walking?”

Louis nods feebly, bracing himself against Marcel’s side. They stand up slowly, and the blackness starts to overtake him. Suddenly, Marcel takes his hand and puts something in his grip. It’s a water bottle.

“Drink that.” Marcel says, and Louis does so with his eyes closed. It tastes tangy, kind of like oranges but with a hint of peach. The fuzzy dots in his vision subside short of a small amount, and he’s able to keep himself alert enough to lean into Marcel’s chest.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He mutters pathetically. Marcel squeezes his wrist.

“You’re still sick, you haven’t eaten, and you’re dehydrated. That’s what.” He says. Louis scowls at his matter-of-fact tone, but can’t find himself to hate him for it. He’s right; Louis is shit at taking care of himself. It’s a damn good thing Marcel is here or he would’ve passed out in the middle of the hallway.

“Do you want to go to the nurse?” He asks, and Louis shakes his head, opposed.

“No. I want my bed.”

He’s hardly aware of what he’s saying, but Marcel smiles regardless. He leads Louis out to his car and helps him in the front seat, demanding he continues to drink from the bottle. Louis doesn’t know what he’s even drinking, but he knows this is Drew’s water bottle he uses when he works out, so Louis will owe him a new one in the future.

Driving to the fraternity takes a lesser amount of time than usual, and Marcel shuts his car off and helps Louis up the concrete steps. The air condition blasts in Louis’ face as they walk through the door, and Marcel leads him to the couch. When Marcel makes a move to walk away, Louis outstretches and grabs his wrist.

“I’m getting you water.” He tells Louis, and Louis falls back to the couch in an exhausted stupor. His knees curl to his shivering body and his eyes feel drier than a desert. There’s no tears coming out anymore, that’s not normal, Louis knows that. He’s crying on the inside, so why isn’t he crying on the outside?

Marcel comes back with a water bottle full of ice and hands it to Louis. He refuses to take it at first, but when Marcel insists, gives in. He sips the iced liquid slowly and it runs smoothly down his throat, rehydrating the dry patches. The throw blanket on the back of the couch is being used as a makeshift pillow, and Marcel brushes Louis’ hair away from his clammy forehead. 

“You scared me,” He says, “I saw you and thought you were going to pass out.”

Louis snorts. “Me too. Bit of a close one, there.”

Marcel is about to say something, but stops himself and purses his lips instead. He continues to run his fingers through Louis’ hair as Louis petulantly sips the water like a child. The nausea still isn’t going away, but the thudding in his chest has significantly calmed. Knowing he’s here with Marcel cures all his anxieties; he can’t handle being away from Marcel anymore.

He’ll admit it. Marcel always reassures him that everything will be okay and that Louis will survive somehow, and maybe that reason is simply because of him. Marcel gives Louis purpose and determination to keep going, whether he wants to or not. Had Marcel not been in Louis’ life right now he’s positive he would’ve wound up in the hospital with a catheter poked in his veins to forcefully rehydrate his shriveled up body. The only place Louis ever wants to be is by Marcel, and he wouldn’t trade any joyful moment in the world for it.

“I think I was having a panic attack,” Louis says, eyes still shut and the tip of the water bottle gracing his lips, “before I found you. I didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t breathe.”

Marcel frowns and swipes a thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. “What happened?”

Louis musters all the strength he can to shrug. “I really don’t know. I got up, went to see Liam, met his roommate, and just…yeah. I don’t remember.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing.” Marcel moves to the floor to have better access to Louis’ hair. The soothing touches of his fingers are the only thing keeping Louis’ nerves at bay. “When you’re sick, you’re more hyper-sensitive to things. You haven’t fully recovered yet, and you haven’t been drinking enough water.” He says, sounding like a mother scolding his child, and Louis scrunches his nose. “Did you eat anything before you left?”

Louis opens his eyes and blinks sheepishly at him. “I don’t remember?”

He hears a sigh and thinks Marcel also rolls his eyes but isn’t quite sure. Of course, Louis knows it’s lighthearted when Marcel ruffles his hair and gets up to walk to the table. He comes back with the water bottle Drew gave to him, and Louis glares at him.

“After you drink all that water, I want you to take sips of this.”

“No.”

Marcel gives him a look, and Louis quickly breaks out into a grin.

“I’m kidding. What is it?”

Marcel looks at the water bottle in question. He shrugs. “He said it was peach-orange something. Your body needs sugar.” He sets the bottle down next to Louis, and Louis blows a stray piece of hair from his face peevishly. When Marcel leaves to go to the kitchen again, Louis scrambles up in haste.

“Wait, I have a better idea.” Louis peers over the back of the couch, and Marcel turns to look at him. “Can you make me that gross green thing again?”

The expression on Marcel’s face is pure amusement. “You mean the green smoothie?”

“Sure, whatever that was.”

“If you drink both of those.” Marcel gestures to the cup of water and the bottle of juice, and Louis deadpans at him. Marcel grins.

“Fine,” Louis finally says, too tired to argue with him, “just go make it.”

Marcel’s smile ranges from ear to ear, and Louis can’t help but utter under his breath a fond “fucker” with a smile that matches the other boy’s. Louis feels better already, although he’d never admit that out loud. Marcel sure does know his stuff; maybe he’s been dehydrated before and knows all the signs. Or, maybe he just knows Louis better than he thinks and can handle him better than Louis can himself. What a thought, someone knowing Louis better than Louis knows himself. It’s an interesting notion, in it’s own way, but definitely can’t be true. Louis has the complexity and depth of an unsolved Rubix cube.

It doesn’t happen often that Louis forgets to eat, whether it be healthy or junk food, so his brain must’ve been preoccupied with _something_. It has to be the fever he’s recovering from, there’s no other explanation for any of his actions. First, thinking Liam’s roommate was going to machete him in three pieces, then tripping down the stairs and into the school in a blind haze? Definitely out of character for Louis, and he’s highly embarrassed of his actions. Crying isn’t something he normally does either, but it wasn’t because he was overemotional. He just had dust in his eye.

Blending up the vegan supreme – as Louis now likes to call it – Marcel comes back with a glass full of it and a sandwich on a napkin. Louis raises his eyebrows quizzically at the sudden service he’s getting.

“You need to eat something solid.” He says, setting the items on the coffee table in front of Louis. Forcing himself to swallow the last of the juice, Louis cringes.

“How are you able to find all this stuff to make all this food?” Louis asks, and he means it, because the last time he looked in the fridge there was absolutely nothing to eat. Well, he supposes in his mind “nothing to eat” means there’s a lack of Mountain Dew, ice cream, Coco Pops, or poptarts, so maybe his definition is a _little_ skewed. He knows Oliver, Drew, Xan, and Chris are the ones who eat the healthiest in the house, so all the ingredients in the smoothie are probably from when they go shopping. Louis just wonders how Marcel ever got them to agree to let him use their resources.

“You just have to look past the actual door, Lou.” Before Marcel sits down on the coffee table, he refills Louis’ ice water to the brim before bringing it back. There’s a full on meal at the table now, and although it’s only for one, this has to count in Louis’ book of “Most Romantic Dates Ever Accomplished”. Of course, that’s only after getting stuck on the rooftop, the latter mishap where Marcel slipped and they ended up kissing, and then where Louis oh-so eloquently sent Marcel into his own panic attack that one time during the pizza fight. Good times.

They sit in silence as Louis alternates between taking small nibbles at his sandwich and taking sips of the smoothie. It tastes different this time, more like green instead of sweet. Before he takes another drink, Louis holds it away and eyes it suspiciously.

“You didn’t put Benadryl in this again, did you?”

“No,” Marcel grins cunningly, “did you want me to?”

“Does it look like I want to be knocked out?”

“I take that as a no.”

Louis snorts and takes a drink. It’s quiet again, the only sound is the air conditioning blowing through the house, which Louis doesn’t know why it’s turned on when it’s the perfect temperature outside. It must be Finnian; he always complains about it being too hot. It’s his fault he always wears a beanie 24/7 – maybe he should finally realize that there’s one common denominator here. Him.

Within the silence and water now filling his blood, Louis is able to surf through all his thoughts. Nothing particularly stands out, but guilt seems to be the most prominent out of them all. He doesn’t know why guilt, but he’s going to ask. Louis lowers the glass to his lap.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Marcel looks up from his gaze on the carpet. “Yeah, course.”

“Um,” Louis hesitates, swirling his thumb against the cold class pressed in the palm of his hand. He really doesn’t know what he was going to ask, but the silence was becoming too thick, too tense, so he had to shatter it before the heat of the glass completely cooled. “You didn’t have class after this, did you?”

Marcel blinks, then nods slowly. “I did, but it’s okay. It’s all on the canvas anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

Louis’ heart sinks with shame. He’s keeping Marcel from his education; the sole reason he’s at college, what they’re _both_ at college for. Marcel is trying to take his seriously and start a new life while Louis is over here fucking around and screwing up everything he possibly can. The heartbeat in his chest doesn’t speed up, but rather begins to slow down.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Louis says, and he can feel himself start to ramble. “I just had no idea what to do, and you were the first person I thought of finding, because I knew you were the only one who could help me.” He refuses to meet Marcel’s shocked expression, and keeps his eyes firmly planted on the carpet. “I was just, _scared,_ and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see, I felt sick, and the only person I kept thinking of was _you_.” Louis finally meets Marcel’s eyes then only does he realize what he’s just said.

Shit, shit, shit, it wasn’t supposed to come out that way, come out _at all,_ for that matter. He’s talking without thinking. What happened to being seduction and trying to get into Marcel’s pants? Their relationship is suddenly turning into Louis exploiting all of his weaknesses, laying them all out on the table and asking Marcel to pick which one he wants to prod at today. Louis can’t stand the fact that Marcel probably thinks less of him now for how pathetic he is, and wouldn’t blame him if he left. Louis isn’t ever permanent in people’s lives; they always leave sooner or later. He just hopes Marcel realizes that Louis isn’t worth it before he gets in too deep or he’ll be fighting a war he’s destined to lose.

“Louis–” Marcel starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“No, I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up, and I’m keeping you from your education, but I just–” He clenches the glass between his hands, “I’m needy, okay? I can fully admit it. You’re the only person who seems to understand me anymore. Life has fucked me sideways and I don’t know which way is right anymore, so I wouldn’t blame you if you left me. Hell, I don’t even understand why anyone hangs around me, to be honest, because I’m really not that great. I don’t deserve nice things.”

Marcel seems completely speechless, and that’s probably for the best. Louis can’t handle the harsh response he’s awaiting in return, and after shutting his eyes and waiting, it never comes.

“Do you really feel that way?” Marcel questions, and his tone is tender and has flecks of hurt in it. Louis slowly opens his eyes and nods.

Their stare down is quiet, intense, and the next thing Louis knows he’s being scooped into Marcel’s arms. The embrace is tight, _warm_ , and Louis clutches the back of Marcel’s shirt.

“Please don’t think that.” Marcel says into his shoulder. “You deserve great things, and you’re a wonderful person. I’d never leave you, ever. I’m sad you think I would.” He pulls away and brushes Louis’ hair away from his face. Louis’ eyes flicker between Marcel’s and he swallows.

“Everyone does, I’m used to it.”

Marcel doesn’t say anything. He pulls Louis back into a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck. There’s an elongated silence between them, and the more coherent Louis becomes, the more he realizes how badly he’s just fucked things up. He unintentionally pulled Marcel in with a slew of words he didn’t meant to admit, and now he’s sealed the deal. If Marcel won’t leave like he says he will, Louis has to make him leave before he can get hurt.

The problem is, Louis doesn’t know how he could possibly want to get rid of someone made specially to fill the cracks in his heart.

Louis hates himself more than ever. This bet will soon become the death of him, and he wants to wither into the couch stuffing and become a dust fiber. It would be a much easier life than the one he’s living now, and he wouldn’t have to directly face Niall and say he’s calling off the bet.

“Please forget everything I just said.” Louis says, and Marcel looks at him inquisitively. “I’m delirious and clearly sick, I don’t mean anything I’m saying.”

Marcel raises an eyebrow. “Any type of delirium only heightens how a person truly feels.”

Damn him to hell, Louis really doesn’t like Marcel right now. It’s like he’s peering through glass walls straight into the deepest pits of Louis’ lonely soul. Louis pushes the boy away petulantly and takes the blanket that was used as a pillow and wraps it around his body until he resembles something like a cocoon. Marcel sets his hands in his lap and there’s an eerie silence that follows.

“Did you really mean what you said?” Marcel asks, and Louis casts him a look.

“Mean what?”

“That I was the first person you thought of.”

Louis can’t decipher the inflection in his voice. It doesn’t sound accusatory, thankfully. It’s more of a mix between genuine curiosity and a splash of hope. What a load of bullshit. Hope has gotten Louis nowhere in life. Back then he hoped his father’s cancer stopped replicating but where did that get him? Absolutely nowhere.

There’s truly no point in lying anymore since Louis has already dug his deep and imminent grave, so he burrows his nose into the blanket.

“Yeah.”

Marcel doesn’t respond. He simply sits in silence and looks at the coffee table from his place on the couch where one of the glasses is empty along with the bottle, and the ice in the water is melting and causing precipitation to run down the sides and create a ring on the glass top. The remains of the sandwich crust are getting dry, and Marcel picks them up and takes them to the trash.

Louis hears shuffling around the kitchen, the water running from the sink, the opening and closing of the sink, but Marcel never comes and sits by him again. He’s still holding his walls high, and Louis only blames himself. Since he’s broken down into nothing but a sad excuse for a human being, Marcel is distancing himself. This is it. This is the beginning of their separation. Louis always knew it was too good to be true, that someone like Marcel would ever like someone like Louis. That’s some time of fairy tail ending Louis has never deserved, and Marcel deserves eons better.

Marcel is an angel sent from above, that’s the only logical explanation. But not all angels are permanent, and Louis knows it’s Marcel’s time.

“Hey,” He says gently, a thumb caressing the ridge of Louis’ cheekbone. It jolts Louis out of his hazy stupor and he blinks groggily at Marcel. He feels himself leaning into the gentle touch, and it feels like rushing water against his dry skin. “I’m going to go catch the last bit of class, will you be alright?”

Louis nods, regardless if he feels the complete opposite. Marcel nods.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” He kisses Louis’ temple, releasing a herd of butterflies scattering in his stomach. The sensation is fleeting, and Marcel is making his way out the door all too soon.

Louis fights the growing hole in his chest as the door clicks shut.

**XxX**

Rustling coming from the kitchen stirs Louis awake from his slumber. He sits up groggily and rubs his sore eyes, turning his head. Chris is in the kitchen making a protein shake, which, predictable.

Chris looks up when he sees movement in the corner of his eye, and once he sees Louis is awake his tan features brighten. “Hey, Louis! You feeling better?”

Louis presses a hand to his head. It’s still warm, but doesn’t feel like the sun is two centimeters away from his skin anymore. There are remnants of a headache still left and his tongue feels parched. He looks over to see another glass of water filled to the brim with ice cubs half melted. Strange, Marcel isn’t back yet and none of the boys would ever be that thoughtful to refill it. Louis blinks the sleep from his eyes and nods.

“Yeah. Where is everyone?”

“Upstairs or somewhere else. They didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping.” Chris mixes protein powder in with the milk. Louis watches in disgust but then the words finally sink into his brain. The boys were leaving him alone, even when he was asleep in the living room where the main traffic of the fraternity took place?

That’s impossible, Louis must be in some alternate universe. The boys never have that much respect or sympathy for someone sleeping on the couch, especially Nick. He always makes them go up to their rooms to sleep since the living room is for “socializing, not taking a nap”. Louis throws the blanket off his lap and stands up, stretching his stiff joints. His back pops unattractively but he can feel how it relaxes his muscles instead of tightening them. That smoothie Marcel gave him earlier must’ve helped him more than he originally thought. All of Marcel’s treatment helped, really, and Louis is very grateful.

Checking the clock on his phone, Louis sees it’s close to five PM. There’s a strange hole in his chest, though, and he can’t pinpoint why. It couldn’t possibly be because Marcel hasn’t come back yet, he’s not that desperate.

It dawns on him. He hasn’t seen Liam or Niall at all today. This is the longest Monday of Louis’ life, and he wonders why it’s getting harder to stay awake with every passing second even though he just woke up from a nap. His life feels void of any excitement without Beavis and Butt-head, so he’ll have to find them tonight and catch up. It feels like it’s been ages since he’s seen them.

Louis ambiguously wonders if Marcel is out of class yet or is even coming over and picks at the fabric of the couch when suddenly on cue there’s a small knock at the door. Chris and Louis glance at each other before Chris goes to open it. Marcel walks through the door way with grocery bags in hand, and a rush of excitement surges through Louis’ body. Marcel actually came back! He’s here in the flesh and actually wanted to come back! This has to be the best day of Louis’ life.

On impulse, Louis leaps into his arms, and the grocery bags in Marcel’s hands fall to the floor. Marcel chuckles and wraps his arms around Louis as Louis buries his nose into the juncture of his neck.

“Woah, happy to see you too.” He sets his hand on Louis’ messy hair. “Did you sleep okay?”

Louis beams up at him. “I did.”

Marcel smiles gently at him, and Chris awkwardly turns back to the kitchen to finish his protein shake. Louis ignores him – Chris gets energy from his protein and Louis gets energy from Marcel. He has no room to judge the differences in their choices of high.

“I missed you.” Louis says, because honestly, fuck it. He’s already spilled half of his guts so there’s no point in trying to hide who he is anymore. Marcel came back even after Louis’ breakdown, and that’s enough reassurance to last Louis a lifetime. He figures he can get away with being clingy because Marcel hasn’t protested, and a warm feeling swells in his chest. “A lot.”

“Weren’t you asleep the whole time?” Marcel lets Louis slide back down to his feet and pushes him a step back so he can shut the door, and immediately intertwines their hands together. Louis purses his lips.

“Yeah, but I still knew you weren’t here.”

Marcel gives Louis a sympathetic look and Chris makes a gagging face at them. Louis scrunches his nose.

“If you don’t want to watch leave the room.”

Chris simply laughs and heads upstairs, shaking his protein as he goes. Marcel watches amused.

“How was class?” Louis asks and helps Marcel gather up the grocery bags. He slides into the kitchen and sets them on the counter, unpacking them from their neatly organized themes. There’s bread in one bag, dairy in one, fruit in another, and miscellaneous in the last one. Louis raises an eyebrow. “Why’d you go out and buy groceries?”

Marcel takes a carton of almond milk out of the plastic bag. “Because I keep using all your food. I have to repay you guys somehow for always letting me steal your groceries.” Before Louis can comment, Marcel speaks. “And class was good. I actually didn’t miss too much. I had to go to the biology lab afterwards though to help the professor grade papers.”

“Sounds boring.” Louis rests his chin on the palm of his hand, his bum jutted outward putting his body at a ninety-degree angle, and Marcel chuckles as he wraps all the plastic bags in a circle.

“Where do you keep extra bags?” Marcel asks, and Louis looks at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Why would we keep those?”

Marcel stares at him blankly and realizes Louis is the last person to ever pay attention to housework or any type of domestic activity, so opens the cabinet below the sink. Low and behold, there’s a wad of plastic grocery bags and Marcel gives him a look. Louis scowls in disbelief.

“I have _never_ seen those before.”

Marcel laughs and sets them on top of the pile, then goes to put all the groceries in their respective places. Louis slides around the counter to the barstools and watches Marcel as he swings his feet back and forth, and his jutted bottom lip says he wants something. Marcel pauses to look at him.

“Will you make me food?” Louis flutters his eyelashes, and Marcel flicks his lips playfully.

“How did you even function before you met me?” It’s a rhetorical question, and Louis grins cheekily as Marcel pulls out the large pot of soup he made yesterday and sets it on the stove. Louis hums in content and drops his hands to the counter, now opting to tap his fingers in a rhythm. He loves to see Marcel smile, it literally brightens the room and has the capacity to melt his insides to wax.

The serene atmosphere is suddenly broken when the front door flings open. There stands Niall, wind-whipped hair and mouth dropped open in a pant, and Louis’ heart drops. For what reason he doesn’t know why, but whatever the reason he knows it’s not a good thing.

“Louis!” He squeals, rushing forward to bring him into a tight embrace. Louis’ cheeks squish against Niall’s shoulder as he squeezes the life out of him, and Louis flails his arms.

“I can’t breathe you fuckhead.”

Niall lets go and Louis takes a gasps for breath. Marcel’s back is turned to them as he stirs the soup but Louis knows he’s still keenly aware of the two behind him by the way his head is turned ever so slightly in their direction.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in _forever_ ,” Niall whines, then looks at Marcel and waggles his eyebrows. “Looks like things are going well, though!”

Louis makes a cutting motion at his throat and Niall slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Err, what have you been up to today, Marcel?” Niall asks, and Marcel’s ears flick back.

“Taking care of this one.” He nods to Louis, and Louis flushes unceremoniously. Niall glances between them and his eyes slowly narrow into thin slivers.

“Are you still sick?” He questions.

“No,” Louis says before Marcel can answer, “not anymore. Just hungry. Speaking of which, Marcel is it almost ready?”

Marcel scoffs. “I’m not magic, it takes time for the burner to warm up.”

Louis’ fingers begin furiously tapping. He’s not impatient because the soups not done, he’s anxious because there’s nothing to be used as a distraction. Niall is going to talk and talk until their ears fall off, and with that he might slip something he’s not supposed to. He wishes Niall would either leave the room or zip his mouth shut altogether.

Turns out, Niall starts jabbering about his day, and eventually a few of the boys make their way down the stairs. First comes Axel, followed by Blake, Garret, Gavin, Drew, Seth, Terrance, Chris, and then Nick. Drew, Terrance, and Chris are all dressed in gym attire so Louis can only assume where they’re headed, and Nick looks peeved as usual. A thought strikes Louis that makes him pause, because all of them were upstairs and they stayed quiet while Louis was sleeping. Nothing like that has ever happened before. All Louis can wonder is _who paid them?_

The soup finishes warming up, and Marcel turns into Chef Ramsey as he serves all the boys soup in bowls. Chris, Terrance, and Drew head out the door while the trio, Seth, and Nick sit at the table. Axel slides next to Niall and graciously takes a bowl of soup.

“You’re a great cook, I hope you know.” Axel says. “Maybe even better than Oliver.”

“I’m telling him you said that.” says Blake, and Axel flips him off. Marcel smiles shyly.

“I’m not out to steal anyone’s position. Louis was just hungry.”

Niall leans over to Axel and whispers something in his ear, to which Axel almost shoots the soup out his nose in response. The two burst into laughter and Louis and Marcel exchange inquisitive glances.

“What’s so funny?” Louis asks, and Niall is still dying of laughter. He waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ll tell you later!” He laughs, and Louis rolls his eyes. In reality, it’s probably about Marcel. A bitter feeling slowly resides in Louis’ chest though as he realizes they’re talking about Marcel, _his boy_. Whatever they’re saying it’s most likely not nice, and Louis has to swallow the burning anger in the back of his throat. Marcel notices his grim expression and tilts his head.

“You okay?” He asks, and the whole room suddenly goes silent. It’s as if Marcel has some secret power in the fraternity to make the boys shut up and obey instantly. It’s very strange to watch, really, because Louis has never seen them more curious to hear his answer.

“Yeah. This is good soup.” He says, and takes another spoonful. Niall and Axel watch him carefully and Niall slowly turns back to chatter away. Marcel leans close to Louis on the counter and rubs his back.

“How’s your head?” He asks. Louis shrugs.

“Normal.”

“Are you drinking water?”

Louis shakes his head.

Marcel blinks before grabbing him a glass of ice water. The boys never take their eyes off of him, and Louis sips the water slowly, self-conscious of every move he makes.

Pushing aside his discomfort, there’s a question just begging Louis to be voiced, so he hesitantly sets the glass down on the counter. He lowers his voice to a whisper and beckons Marcel to lean closer.

“Did you pay them to let me sleep?” Louis asks.

Marcel’s eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead. “Pay?” He repeats.

Louis nods and ducks his head down. “None of the boys would _ever_ be that quiet while someone’s sleeping on the couch, it’s basically against the rules to sleep anywhere other than your room during the day. So did you pay them?”

Marcel chuckles and leans back. “Louis, why would I pay them? They know you’re sick and didn’t want to wake you up. They have their best interest out for you and know what it’s like to be sick.”

Louis stops. No, Marcel is wrong, that’s not why. They’re not doing it because they have their “best interest” for _Louis_ , but rather _Marcel_. It has everything to do with the bet and nothing to do with sympathy. The boys couldn’t give a shit if Louis is sick or not, they’re just trying to get Marcel to come around more to learn more about him so they can tease him behind his back and exploit his weaknesses to blackmail him out of town. Louis should’ve known better than to bring his pearl among swine; it’s destined to get ruined and Louis doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. He’s such an _idiot_.

Louis isn’t going to do it. He’s not going to tell Niall he’s backing out of the bet. That would only end up ricocheting him in the face and make him the laughing-stock of the fraternity. He was the first one to break the social norms and go after a guy, but are the boys _really_ being genuine? Sure, Louis knows their backstories all the way from their time in the womb to now and every passing thought that goes through the cogs in their brain, but that still doesn’t mean they have good intentions.

This is all a big game to the boys. None of them genuinely like Marcel. They think of him more as a toy and are playing with him for their own sick amusement. Louis should’ve seen it coming like a freight train – it’s been flashing in his face for days now yet he’s been too blind to see it. The boys only keep up their good boy façades when Marcel is over simply to woo him over. But at the end of the day? They couldn’t give a damn, and Louis can’t believe he was strung along so easily; being naïve enough to believe he could actually trust the boys.

Slowly, Louis’ energy depletes rapidly along with his self-worth. He is a horrible human being. He dragged an innocent person into a mess they call a fraternity and made a bet out of it. Louis is no different than the rest of the boys; he uses people and throws them away like they’re meaningless trash. What made him think he was different, he doesn’t know, but he’s not. And the sooner he severs all ties of this relationship between him and Marcel, the better. It’s for Marcel’s sake.

“Hey, Lou, are you okay?” Marcel asks, leaning closer to swipe his thumb across Louis’ cheekbone. Louis jerks away.

“’M just tired.” He mutters, tugging at the ends of his fringe in shame. “I’m going to sleep.” He pushes away the half-empty bowl of soup more harshly than intended, making the spoon clatter against the glass, then slides off the barstool. He’s effectively gained the attention of the other boys as he grabs the blanket from the couch and heads towards the stairs. Marcel takes a step to follow him.

“Do you–”

“Whatever it is, no. I’m fine.” Louis gives him a smile that refuses to reach his eyes and turns around before he can get sucked into the depth of Marcel’s lensed eyes. He hopes and prays Marcel doesn’t follow him because he wouldn’t be able to handle looking him in the eyes and deny that everything he’s felt is _real_.

Louis shuts his door and collapses on his bed face-first. It’s a never-ending cycle he goes through. Just when he thinks things are starting to go up they come crashing back down to reality and Louis is harshly reminded why. He should’ve never made that stupid bet in the first place; it’s ruined the potential relationship he and Marcel could continue to kindle. He’s too cowardly to tell the boys he’s canceling the bet, but too scared to sever the relationship with Marcel, thus he’s stuck in the middle of a horrible predicament. He doesn’t know what to do.

Louis knows, though, that he can’t keep dragging Marcel in further than he already is. It’d be a risk for both of them, and Louis’ pride is too big to let himself go out and find someone else. Either he has to suck it up and fuck Marcel without remorse and get rid of him, tell the boys he’s not doing the bet anymore, or cut all strings with Marcel.

None of the options sound appealing, and Louis honestly wishes he were dead instead.

An hour later in the midst of a restless sleep, Louis ignores his phone when Marcel’s name lights up on the screen.

**XxX**

_January 21st_

The next morning, there’s a loud knock on his door.

Louis’ squints his eyes and slowly lifts his head. Niall isn’t in the room – he must either be downstairs or left for class already – and then glares at the door. Who the fuck is waking him up before his alarm goes off?

“Louis, it’s Seth. Can I come in?”

Louis blinks. Well that explains it. Since when does Seth want anything with a pathetic and half-inhibited Louis? He has no weed, no information, no assignments to copy from, he’s already decided he’s not getting out of bed today, so what does Seth want?

Louis scrubs his face and rolls out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders before trudging over to the door to unlock it. He opens it slowly and Seth is perched against the doorframe, smiling. Which, weird. It should be illegal for people to be this happy before seven AM.

Louis’ stares at Seth before he lets him in. Seth looks around the room for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, and Louis closes the door. He eyes Seth suspiciously. Louis has been here three years and knows all the boys inside and out, and he knows for a fact that Seth is acting too nonchalant. That’s not normal.

“What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Seth says, and the look on his face says he’s telling the truth. Louis lets out a disbelieving laugh and furrows his eyebrows. Seth woke him up at the ass-crack of dawn just for kicks and giggles?

“Okay…?”

“Well, actually,” Seth hesitates, and Louis internally lets out a breath of relief. Finally something worthwhile. “I, I’m not here for nothing. I actually came here to talk to you.”

Louis blinks and sits back on his bed. “About?”

“Marcel.”

“What about him?”

“Eh, nothing too important.”

He’s skirting around the edges. Louis is going to throw him out the window into their dead flower garden Gavin has forgotten to water for the past three months if he doesn’t answer the damn question. “Seth, just get to the point.”

“Sorry,” Seth says, having previously experienced an impatient Louis in the morning, and runs a hand through his hair. “Just, like,” He sighs and sits on the end of Louis’ bed. He’s twirling his thumbs and staring at the floor, and if Louis were a psychologist he’d almost say Seth looks nervous, but since he’s not, he waits for him to speak.

Seth sighs one more time and looks back at him. “Um, you, you won’t tell any of the other boys will you? Even though it’s in our pact and everything.”

Louis nods, though his body language says differently. Seth’s shoulders are rigid, his back is erect, and his eyes keep darting around the room. This topic seems interesting, and Louis is most definitely going to tell Liam and maybe Niall about this. He almost adds Marcel to that list, but then stops himself.

Well, looks like he has his answer as to which option he’s going with.

Seth takes a few moments to compose himself before he looks at Louis again. “I’ve never been good at fitting in with people, and you know that. I mean, I’m better than _most_ people, like Finnian – don’t tell him I said that – but sometimes I just feel so out of place, you know? It’s like I don’t know what to do or think because so many people keep telling me what I should do and think. Do you get me?”

No, but Louis nods anyway.

“I’m just…confused lately. Like I don’t really know what to do.”

“What are you confused about?” Louis asks. It’s honestly appalling that preppy boy Seth who hangs out with fuckboys Garrett, Gavin, and Blake is coming to _Louis_ for advice. Seth has always seemed like the one to have his shit figured out. If anyone doesn’t fit in, it’s Louis.

“I just,” Seth lets out a heavy sigh. “I…I think I’m gay.”

Louis stares at him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, nothing. Just stares.

“Okay,” Louis says softly.

Seth lets out a sigh, except this one sounds relieved as opposed to his other ones. “Wow, I,” He shakes his head, “I never thought I’d say that out loud.”

Louis cocks his head and smiles. He readjusts the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “What do you mean?"

Seth glances at him then to the floor. “Well, the reason I came to you is because of Marcel. I mean, I never knew you were gay – I don’t think any of the boys did, really, so it came as quite a shock. But you could be bi or experimenting, none of us know–”

Louis gives Seth a look that shows he’s clearly rambling. He shuts his mouth and clears his throat.

“Uh, sorry. But, um, I know about the bet and everything, but you could’ve done that with any girl yet you chose Marcel of all people, even though he’s a guy. Why?”

Louis silently groans. He doesn’t want to think about Marcel right now, he’s already angry enough as it is. He’s decided just not five minutes ago that he’s breaking all ties with Marcel; he doesn’t want to think of all the reasons why he chose him for the bet. Louis doesn’t fucking know. All he knows is that the first time they met in the frozen foods aisle of Albertsons there was a connection.

It’s happened to Louis before, he’d meet random strangers and they’d immediately get along but he’d never see them again so it never went anywhere. He guesses it’s some upper being was controlling their fate to have their paths intermingle, if only for a moment, and it’s what brought Louis to the frozen foods aisle that particular night to meet another one of those destined beings, which just so happened to be Marcel.

Louis is so desensitized and used to disappointment that at the time he thought he’d only remember Marcel as the boy with fascinating green eyes and bad taste in fashion. That isn’t the case now, though, since now Marcel is so much more underneath. Louis guesses he chose Marcel just because it seemed easiest and he didn’t have to try as hard. The way their personalities clicked and they warmed up to each other immediately just made sense. It all seemed to fit in this cycle of fate.

When life is going downhill, Louis’ been told that something will come along that pick it back up to realign onto the uphill part of the cycle, and he just happened to find that something. Marcel.

“We just hit it off immediately, I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.” Louis shrugs. He really, _really_ doesn’t want to be talking about this because he’s trying to squash all feelings for Marcel and metaphorically cut the strings between them, but it’s inevitable at the moment. Seth is confused and wants an answer, so Louis doesn’t really have a choice. “I mean, I know this sounds cheesy but when I actually got to know him I found out he’s more than just glasses and bad taste in clothing.” Seth chuckles at that. “He’s funny, smart, determined, just everything I aspire to be.”

Seth nods vigorously, like he’s taking mental notes. “So why him?”

Louis hesitates. He has to choose his words carefully; he doesn’t know what Seth could possibly do with the information. He’s still shady, whether he’s entrusting Louis with the biggest secret in his life right now or not. “Well, err…at the time I didn’t see everything I do now. I only saw him for who he was on the outside, but the more time I spent with him the more I liked him as a person. Now it’s not a matter of getting in his pants or the bet but rather how I can make him happy.”

The second the words leave his lips his eyes widen to the size of saucers. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to say that. Louis just needs to do the whole world a favor and permanently duct tape his lips shut. Knowing Seth, he’ll go and tell every boy in the house about Louis’ confession. He could easily infer from that statement that Louis is no longer doing the bet, which that _is_ the truth, but Louis doesn’t want to admit it. He’s too stubborn to give up, so ignoring the problem is the easiest option.

“Oh…so you’re _not_ using him?” Seth asks.

Louis cringes. “I mean, I was, but decided I didn’t want to anymore.” He pauses, then adds with a boost in arrogance, “It got boring, you know? It would be too difficult to explain.”

Seth nods, and Louis is thankful he’s not questioning it. “Yeah. He seems really special.”

Louis looks at his hands. His heart is beating erratically and he wants it to stop. It’s hurting in more ways than one and he wants to rip it out of his chest before he starts crying from the agony. “Yeah. He is.” He clears his throat and swallows his nerves and looks back up at Seth. “So, what made you think you’re gay?”

Seth shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s like I’ve done it with girls but I didn’t feel that…that _connection,_ you know? They’re too whiny and only care about their boobs.” They both laugh. “And like, I see how you and Marcel are with each other and it just looks fun. Like you two don’t have to try and impress each other, it’s just natural.”

Louis shrugs, a knot rising higher and higher in his throat. “That’s definitely how it is.”

“But, like, where do you find the confidence to do that?” Seth asks. “With all the pressure from the boys in the house to be straight and Nick always on your case about it, how do you not care what other people think? Don’t you get dirty looks all the time?”

“I just decided a long time ago that other people don’t get to define my life. I do what I want because it makes me happy.” Louis says. Seth takes a moment to let the words sink in.

“But what if people are talking behind your back and making fun of you?”

“Then they can just go fuck themselves.” Louis shrugs. Seth bursts into laughter and Louis grins.

This is nice, Louis thinks, not having to feel pressured into anything. Seth has always been one of the most questionable boys in the fraternity regarding loyalties, but now it’s as plain as day to Louis. Seth was just latching on to any of the boys he saw the most powerful (which no one in the house really likes or respects Nick) so he always played along with Gavin, Blake, and Garrett because they were the next ones “in charge”. Not because they’re respectable, but rather because they were more outspoken, more of a pit-bull.

Louis is more of a loner. Sometimes Niall will join him but then again Niall has more friends in general than Louis, but Louis isn’t the type to play the little social games everyone else does to fit in. Louis doesn’t mold himself to fit with the system, the system has to fit _his_ standards or else he won’t play the game. And because of that, Seth came to Louis because he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk to the trio about his sexuality, they’d flat out make fun of him and call it a “phase”. Now, though, Seth seems to have things figured out, and that makes Louis happy. There’s more hope for him than there ever was for Louis.

“Okay, so I think I get what you’re saying.” Seth says. He sounds invigorated. “So, like, there’s this guy in my math class, and he’s pretty attractive – is that weird to say? – and I don’t know what to do.”

“Get his number.” Louis says. Seth looks at him like he’s grown five heads and Louis laughs. “I’m serious, get his number!”

“Are, are you sure?” Seth says. “’Cause, I don’t even know if he’s into guys, wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Hey, I didn’t have the slightest clue if Marcel was into guys or not. We met in the frozen food aisle at Albertsons, for God’s sake.” Seth laughs. “But the only things you regret in life are the chances you never took. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering if that cute guy from math class was straight or not?”

Seth fumbles with the bed sheets. “No…”

Louis holds his hand out. “See. So go get his number.”

Seth snorts, but it almost comes out as a giggle. “Okay, I’m going to do it. Tomorrow, he’s in my class.”

Louis smiles. “Good.”

“Um, but Louis?”

“Hm?”

“What if he isn’t into guys and I make a fool of myself?” He asks with a scowl. He seems genuinely concerned about it. Louis empathizes with him on a personal level.

“Then find another guy. Anyone who makes you feel bad about yourself isn’t worth your time.”

Seth look up at him as if he’s just recited the whole bible without a single mistake. Louis doesn’t blame him, he’s been preaching mighty fine doctrine this morning if he does say so himself.

“Okay, I think I can do this.” He says. There’s a glimmer in his eye that reminds Louis a lot of himself a few years ago – back when he felt like he could conquer the world. Now, Louis is just a spiraling mess caught up in a fraternity with a bet that’s only expired all too long ago. “I’m going to do it.”

“I know you can do it.” Louis says. Seth stands up and goes for the door handle, but pauses. He looks like he’s about to jump out of his socks with all the adrenaline coursing through his body.

“Um, thank you, Louis.” Seth says. “Thanks a lot. You really helped.”

“My pleasure.” Louis responds. Seth goes for the door handle again but then stops.

“Uh, d’you think you can keep this between us? I don’t want the other boys knowing quite yet. I want to figure things out first.”

“Of course. House rule after all.” Louis holds up a pinky and Seth laughs.

“Yeah. Well, see ya.”

“You’ll have to tell me how it goes!” Louis says. Seth nods and walks out of the room, leaving Louis feeling more accomplished and good about himself than he has in a long time.

It honestly touches Louis to know that Seth came to him in a time of need over any of the other boys. He sees Louis as a rule breaker, a black sheep in a flock of white sheep, a trendsetter, someone who doesn’t follow the crowd, and wanted to know how he did it with such confidence. Louis doesn’t know, he just does it. But now looking and talking with Seth makes Louis realize that he has more of an impact on the boys than he thinks he does. Maybe that’s why Nick despises him so much. Louis is more of a leader than him even though he’s technically the ruler in their communistic monarchy of a fraternity.

As Louis sits in his bed, lots of things run through his mind. He feels much better physically than yesterday, but not emotionally. He’s still pissed from last night and frankly doesn’t want to see Marcel today at all. After spouting the entire makeup of his brain chemistry and a sob story to go with it, Louis is very embarrassed and humiliated by how needed he acted and how easily his walls fell down. He needs to pull himself together and go back to treating Marcel how he did in the beginning. Insignificant. No calls, no texts, no hanging out at Liam’s. If they run into each other in the halls, Louis’ greeting will be curt.

This is all part of severing the ties – they can’t have a close relationship anymore. It’s for Marcel’s safety and protection. Louis cares about Marcel so much that he’s pushing him away. It’s the only option.

The one thing that Louis keeps coming back to is why Marcel is so different. Louis has met all sorts of people throughout his life, girls and boys alike, yet none of them have ever come eons close to how Marcel makes him feel. No one has been able to evoke such passion and emotion inside of Louis before. He’s found this wonderfully amazing person and had to go and fuck it up by making a bet that he’s too stubborn to call off simply because he’s been hurt too many times in his life to believe any of it was genuine. Marcel doesn’t deserve someone as horrible as Louis, and Louis sure as hell doesn’t deserve someone as kind as Marcel.

It’ll be hard knowing the cracks in Louis’ heart will be empty again, that the blood in his veins will be drained of any sort of happiness. It’ll be difficult not picking up his phone and texting Marcel something funny, or sharing a stupid video he finds on the Internet, or asking if he can come make him food. It’ll be hard, but Louis has to do it. He’s positive he can, he’s done it before. What makes Marcel any different than anyone else he’s ever burned bridges with?

Nothing. Marcel is nothing to Louis, and he has to convince himself that all Marcel is to him is a game.

**XxX**

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued! If you like it, please leave a comment or share it with your friends :) thanks for reading!


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